Secrets
by Neuronerd
Summary: Sequel to Out of Time. Dr. Collins continues her adventures with the crew and along the way learns the secrets they hold. M for potential violence and language.
1. Chapter 1 Shotgun Wedding

**A/N: So here it is folks, the sequel to Out of Time. I make no promises as to length or overall quality, but I did up the rating from T to M because let's face it- we all know that Jim and Bones probably swear like sailors. As always, I love comments. Cheers!**

**Chapter 1- Shotgun Wedding**

I followed Jim to the transport shuttles and we sat near the back with Spock, who garnered a few stares from the occupants but sat stoically and pretended not to notice. I wondered if it was because they had never before seen a Vulcan or if it was because he was now classified as a member of an endangered species like the giant panda. I wondered if pandas were now extinct…

"So," Jim said to break the awkward silence, "when we get to the city, we will first stop at Starfleet to settle in and then a bunch of us had planned to go out. Do you want to come?"

"Who is going?" I asked assuming he wasn't addressing Spock. Going on an all night bender just didn't seem to be his thing.

"Uhura, Scotty, Sulu, Chekov if we can get him in. Sometimes they just look at the uniform and assume he's old enough and others actually ask for a damn ID." He lamented.

"What about McCoy?" I inquired. An all night bender seemed to be exactly his kind of thing.

"Probably," He guessed, "but he is a crotchety old man and he needs cajoling sometimes."

I was amazed at the silence of the vehicle as I looked past Spock's immobile face out at the lights of the city as they passed in quick succession. I had never been to San Francisco, but it in some ways reminded me of Chicago, the place I would forever consider my home. I smiled and remembered the public transportation system that seemed ancient even then; I wondered what it was like now. The busses were infuriatingly unpredictable and the famous El trains nearly shook you to pieces. God forbid you be near the tracks downtown as the wheels of the trains grinded against the rails in a high pitched scream over your head that caused you to squint in agony or cover your ears at approximately two minute intervals. I hadn't realized how much I missed it.

The commute was quick and smooth and I found myself sitting on a patch of grass outside what looked to be dormitories; single file metal and glass buildings, architecturally drab and efficient. Jim said he would be right back, so I waited and watched people in various uniforms walk by. Some uniforms were fancier than others and entirely unlike the ones the crew wore. I wondered if they were faculty, or high ranking officials perhaps. I sat on my island of green, picking blades of grass and absentmindedly breaking them into tiny little pieces with a crisp snap.

"Hello, Dr. Collins." Came a thick Russian accent from my left. I jumped in surprise as Chekov sat down next to me. "I'm wery sorry," He added with a sly grin, "I didn't mean to frighten you. The Captain told me that I should vait vith you until the others come." He looked so different in civilian clothes that I might not have recognized him in the dark if he didn't open his mouth. "I'm glad that you could come." He said meekly.

I smiled. "I am too, Chekov," I admitted, "but you don't have to call me Dr. Collins. It is a little too formal, why don't you just call me Morgan while you are off duty?" I requested. It still didn't feel natural, but it was probably best that I just take ownership of it and be happy.

It was his turn to smile and he replied, "I vill if you call me Pavel."

"It's a deal then, Pavel. So, do you have any plans for your time off?" I asked casually to make conversation until the others arrived.

"I vill try to call my mother in Russia, maybe even wisit her if I can arrange transport." His eyes shone with hopefulness and I found myself cheering for his success. It would be nice for him to visit his family. He probably didn't get home often.

"Where are you from in Russia?" I queried.

"A wery small willage in the Urals. I vent to Starfleet Academy in Moscow at 14." He answered proudly. "You said you vent to Russia, yes?" He seemed genuinely excited that I had been to his motherland.

"Yeah," I said laughing, "the bastards made me get a double entry visa to go through a tiny little enclave called Kaliningrad that was completely surrounded by territory owned by the European Union before entering Russia proper. When I got there it was like being interrogated by the KGB. I was made to stand in front of this booth under a harsh light and answer questions by someone I couldn't see behind a mirror while a foot soldier dumped out my luggage." His eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "True story!" I protested. "I was also told to carry US currency because I could be stopped at any time for any reason and be thrown into a gulag unless I paid the cop a bribe. All around St. Petersburg the military was posted in public areas and they had huge guns. On top of all of this, my passport had been confiscated because I had to register with the Russian Federation, so I had no identification or proof of citizenship in the event I had to contact the US Consulate if I ran into trouble. It was all a little unnerving."

"Hey you two!" Sulu called from behind us. "Come on, we are heading to the club!" Chekov and I got up and followed, a little sad that we had to end the conversation so soon.

The nightclub that Jim had chosen was packed and loud, but he had it on good authority that the staff didn't ask too many questions which increased the chances Chekov could slip by unnoticed. We had to wait in line, but it was a beautifully cool night and we passed the time talking amongst each other. McCoy was persuaded to tag along, but he looked tired and said he would only stay for a few drinks to which Scotty loudly proclaimed, "Bollocks you will! We'll be draggin' your arse out at daylight drunker than a priest at Bingo!" Everyone laughed while McCoy scowled at the gregarious engineer, but he didn't refute his statement.

We managed to get a table only because the owner got wind that the man that had saved the planet was waiting to get in. I sat tightly packed between Sulu and McCoy and we all enjoyed drinks on the house. I wondered if the owner knew how much money he would lose just on Scotty and McCoy. I had seen both men drink prodigious amounts at one sitting and I hoped the rest of the patrons would keep him from going broke. It felt good to let my hair down with my new coworkers and enjoy the bonding experience that only free flowing alcohol can bring. It was like a shower for the soul after what we had witnessed in the last few days. Soon there were smiles all around and much dancing when we could squeeze our way onto the floor. We sat drinking, talking, and dancing for hours while the multi-colored lights swirled above our heads and the music pounded with a relentless beat.

It was almost closing time when Jim leaned clumsily on the table, nearly breaking several of the glasses that had accumulated and held his glass in the air. "To another 'cessful mission in which we kept our asses from being blown off…more or less," he slurred looking at Bones with a crooked smile, "and to our new counselor who will be joining us presently. After I lie my ass off to the Admiral." He added. Cheers erupted from the table and I saluted them with the half glass of Bailey's I had left. "Which r'minds me," He continued, "I think the best lie would be to tell him that I hitched the two of you before we landed." He stated gesturing lazily to McCoy and I with bleary eyes. "Bones, you cool with that?" McCoy obviously had too much to drink and mumbled something, but even I couldn't make it out and I was sitting next to him, there was no way Jim could have heard him over the music. "Good," He declared, "Scotty! I need you to witness as an officer 'cause s'no way in hell Spock will falsify paperwork and stuff. 'S too morally grey for him, but I know you will you sneaky bastard!" He yelled and again waved his glass around haphazardly.

"Aye, that I will, Captain!" Scotty shouted back. "But just so you are keen, there will be 5 extra cases of the finest Scotch, I mean axle grease, I can get me hands 'round on the ship's manifest. I will 'blige you if you stay daft about it."

"Never saw a thing, Scotty!" Jim said smashing his glass against the engineer's.

"Congratulations to the two of you!" Sulu said raising his glass and downing the rest of his drink before engaging in a laughing fit with Uhura and Chekov. Beside me, McCoy sank deeper in his chair and mumbled incoherently with his eyes at half mast.

"We s'go." Jim decreed training his eyes on McCoy. "Gotta put the old man to bed 'fore he passes out. Heh." He chuckled, eyes dull and glazed.

We all slowly strolled back to the dorms only a few blocks away. We kept pace with Chekov who, being voted the least drunk of all of us, was charged with helping McCoy stay upright while he shuffled along with his head down. Occasionally he would grumble loudly when Chekov grabbed him to prevent him from doing a face plant on the concrete, but he was otherwise content to be herded along by the gentle Russian. When we finally approached the rooms, Sulu asked timidly who was going to put McCoy to bed.

Immediately, Jim pointed to me with a huge smile. "C'mon! He's _your_ old man now!" He taunted when I disagreed with a slow shaking of my head. Any faster and I may have blacked out myself. This whole sham arrangement was dubious at best and downright awkward at worst for the smooth working relationship we had managed to forge. I wondered if McCoy had a clear knowledge of what he was consenting to at the bar or if he would have no memory of it when he finally woke up. This was the kind of crazy thing that happened in Vegas. Come home on shore leave, go out on the town and wake up tattooed and married. I almost felt sorry for him, the hangover he would be reeling from in the morning would be the least of his problems.

"Ah. Some wife you are." Jim joked with a dismissive wave. "You know, we should dump 'im on Spock's door. Prude bastard didn't go. That's what he should get for bein' all responsible and stuff." After a deep sigh and a few sways to regain balance, he said, "Fine. As cap'n, I will strip him necked and hide his clothes 'cause he deserves it for everything he does to me. Heh." He wrapped McCoy's arm around his shoulder and half drug him down the hall while the others went to their rooms.

It slowly dawned on me that I had nowhere to go. I was considering the safety of sleeping outside on the grass when Uhura offered to share her quarters with me. I gratefully accepted. Although her room was tiny and cramped, I was thankful for her hospitality even though it meant me sleeping on the floor. I just hoped she wouldn't step on my head if she had to get up to go to the bathroom or hit me with the door. She pulled the shade down over the small window by her bed, but daylight had already begun to seep through the bottom like the inescapable eye of God when he knows you have been naughty. It didn't bother me in the least; I was out before you could say Morgan Thompson-Collins-McCoy.


	2. Chapter 2 Cold Feet

**Chapter 2- Cold Feet**

I had no real concept of what time it was other than to know it was way too early for me to be awake. Daylight was still streaming through the window and I lay on my back with my arm across my eyes to block it out. It felt like streams consisting of hundreds of tiny daggers in my eyes. I swallowed and noticed how dry my mouth and throat were; I hoped for Uhura's sake I hadn't been snoring, that just seemed uncalled for. Outside I could hear lots of voices shouting in unison and it reminded me of military videos showing men doing drills, all in perfect alignment like dominoes and moving in step with everyone else with perfect timing as though they all shared a brain. That level of conformity always creeped me out.

I sat up slightly to see Uhura peacefully sleeping on her side. My head swam fantastically with light and color, so I gently put my head back on the pillow and made a mental note not to make any sudden moves. To distract myself, I lay there and thought about the bizarre set up Jim had hatched in order to make my presence on his ship legitimate to his superiors.

The deception bothered me somewhat, but if I was honest with myself it was disturbing because of who my accomplice was. While McCoy could at times be charming when he wanted to be, he had a reputation as Thor the God of Thunder for good reason. I had come to admire his skill and knowledge as well as the passion and dedication with which he approached medicine, but in reality I knew very little about him in the way of personal information. Even if I had, I was very comfortable with him at arm's length in a professional capacity. Getting at the center of McCoy just felt like sticking your bare hand into a beehive. There may be honey deep down in there, but you would suffer greatly while you dug for it.

Beyond that, I wondered about my exact marital status. On the walk back to the dorms, Jim assured me that this was all just bureaucratic bullshit required by Starfleet Command and he wasn't going to file the actual paperwork required to make us legally married, he was only going to inform Starfleet Personnel that I was McCoy's domestic partner. Essentially it amounted to adding my name to his file as the person to contact in case of an emergency, he explained. To them it would look like we were married when in reality we were free to go our separate ways, legally speaking. "Don't worry," He slurred, "you are no more married than me. 'Sides, I don't think Bones would be in a hurry to get back on _that_ horse. Heh!" His laugh was almost desperate, indicating that McCoy had once been married but it had somehow ended very badly.

Then that started the ball rolling regarding my last name. Obviously Collins was my married name, and that was what everyone called me. I didn't make them say the whole tongue twister for the sake of expediency, but should I really still be using it? Or wearing my wedding band? To be so cavalier about discarding them felt somehow disrespectful to the man which they represented, but how long should I let his ghost haunt me? How long should I hold on to his memory as though it happened yesterday when in fact it was ages ago? Except it wasn't, and I felt sick at not being upset by it. The reality was I was again single and it felt vaguely exciting to be free, but it wasn't like being married was by any means bondage. From what I could recall, he was a good man and I was happy. The problem was, it had no context of meaning anymore. Like an abstract painting by Picasso that sort of resembles a person in some way, but you have to work at recognizing the disjointed angles and lines that comprise the form as such. The truth was, I really felt nothing floating on my back in the sea of ambiguity while gazing at the grey sky.

I rolled onto my side and watched as the shadow of people's feet passed beyond the door of Uhura's room. The sound of muffled voices came and went, each drifting off into the stillness of the unoccupied hallway until the next person broke the silence. I became aware of the discomfort that stirred in my mind. Time seemed to go fast and intolerably slow all at the same time. I was glad to be back on Earth while wanting nothing more than to run back to the ship and blast off back into space. I wasn't sure why, but it felt like my life was falling apart just as I had found new purpose. Perhaps I was afraid that this all really was a dream and I would awaken to find myself back in my ordinary life. Maybe I was scared that Jim couldn't really find a plausible excuse to get me back on the ship and I would be left behind.

It was strange, but I recognized it all as anxiety and the label alone made me feel better. If I had a diagnosis, I could apply a cure. What I needed was a clear direction as well as closure. What I needed was to travel back to Chicago and say goodbye. I simply couldn't live in both worlds in two different times. I had to make a choice to embrace one and forever let go of the other for the sake of my own sanity least I end up with a split personality in an effort to maintain both realities. I wasn't exactly sure how I would go about it all, but I knew that was what I had to do just as sure as I knew that I had a hangover.


	3. Chapter 3 The Problem with Vulcans

**Chapter 3- The Problem with Vulcans**

I must have drifted back to sleep at some point because the next thing I knew, I heard the sound of splashing water in the bathroom. I sat up and my head felt somewhat better, although it still felt like I had sand in my mouth. I sat against Uhura's empty bed and closed my eyes until she came out and sat next to me. She handed me a glass of water with a smile and I was ever so grateful even though my stomach lurched sickeningly.

She squirmed and licked her lips the way people do when they are just itching to say something when they know they shouldn't. I pretended not to notice just to see how long she could hold out. I didn't have to wait long.

"Can I ask you something?" She asked in an excited tone while tying her long, shiny hair into a bun.

I sighed. "You can ask anything you want, you just might not get an answer." I warned. I really shouldn't be so short with her seeing as how she did give me a place to stay, but I was never one for girl talk and that was where this conversation seemed to be going.

"So what is with you and McCoy?" She pressed absolutely undeterred.

"There is nothing with us." I replied flatly. "We work in the same department and he does his thing while I do mine. I think we have a mutual professional respect for each other, but nothing more. You don't dip your pen in the company ink."

"Mmmhmmm." She hummed obviously not convinced. "That's not what it looks like."

"What does that mean?" I asked somewhat irritated. I had left high school a long time ago and I thought she had as well.

"Really?" She exclaimed with a laugh. "You had lunch with the man! No one eats lunch with him. No one I tell you! I see the way he is with you. I saw the two of you last night and you seemed pretty cozy. You were dancing pretty close…" Her voice was playfully taunting, but I was determined not to take the bait.

"Uhura, I was close to everyone, including you. Hell, I was up against people I had never met before because the place was so full, there was no way to avoid it. You are simply misinterpreting events. Is that because you want there to be a connection?" I smiled as I turned the tables on her.

She was indeed caught off guard, but recovered beautifully. She waved her hand and said, "Look, whatever the two of you do is none of my business."

"Alright, I answered your question." I paused before grinning and asking, "What is with you and Spock?"

Although I was taking a stab in the dark, I knew I hit the mark. The shock on her face was priceless. She looked around the room as though someone were listening. "How did you know?" She whispered. "We are keeping it a secret."

"Relax, Uhura." I said in a soothing voice. "If you want it to remain a secret, it is safe with me. But as to how I knew, it wasn't you. If I had just been watching you, I would have never noticed the connection. I put it together from him. It was the way he would pause just for a nanosecond every time he walked by your station and the subtle way he greeted you just a little differently than he did the others. Mostly it was his eyes. He may be great at keeping his expression neutral, but his eyes speak volumes once you learn how to read them. Do you remember when the Captain invited us to the Lounge on deck 2?" She nodded her head with an amused look on her face. "When you asked Chekov and Sulu to dance I noticed a very quick but definite flash in his eyes that I figured out was probably jealously. He didn't like you dancing with other men."

"No!" She exclaimed with surprise. "You saw that?" I nodded and she laughed. "He did talk to me about it afterward. He knows I love to dance and he doesn't, so he normally doesn't mind. But for whatever reason it bugged him that night. It is strange sometimes." Her voice sounded sad and it struck a chord in me.

I sat up straight and turned toward her. "What do you mean it is strange?" I asked softly.

She sighed and shook her head. "It is a long story, you probably don't want to hear it." She continued to look down at her crossed legs, but her expression told me she was carrying a heavy burden.

"Uhura, if I am going to be the ship's counselor, you will have to trust me. I promise that whatever you say, and I do mean whatever, will not be repeated to anyone. I take my ethical responsibilities very seriously. I won't force you to talk to me, but I am here to listen to anything you feel like talking about."

She looked at me and gave a small smile. "It's just hard to keep secrets. We have to sneak around and be so careful so people won't catch on. He feels it will have a negative impact on his ability to command and worries constantly about the perception of favoritism. He felt that way in classes at the Academy and I had to absolutely insist he assign me to the Enterprise. I understand why he does it and I can't say he doesn't have a point, but when can we just come clean and live like normal people?" Her voice was strained and the stress of it all marred her normally radiant features.

"It must be hard for you, but it sounds like this arrangement has been in place for some time. Your relationship with him must be fairly strong to withstand that kind of strain." I commented.

"I do love him and I would do anything for him, but sometimes I wish he could just be a little more human, you know? I respect his Vulcan heritage and traditions, but I wish that we could just do normal things like dance, or maybe he could bring me flowers once in awhile or even wish me happy birthday. It all feels so alienating sometimes. I try so hard to respect his wishes, but it would be nice if once in awhile he would bend just a little and respect my needs." She murmured.

"Have you spoken to him about this?" I asked. "I think he would listen and be willing to try if he knew this was causing you so much misery."

"That's just it," she sighed, "he would rationalize everything and go on about how wishing me a happy birthday was not logical. If I argued with him long enough he might just give up and do it, but by then it wouldn't mean anything." She looked at me apprehensively and asked in a low voice, "Are you sure that you won't repeat anything?"

I knew from experience that this was the cue for the bomb to drop. I looked her directly in the eyes and said, "I swear on whatever deity you hold most sacred that I will not breathe a word to anyone on pain of being locked alone in a room with a Romulan."

She smiled at the joke and then took a deep breath. "I am not even sure how it all started, but Scotty and I have been spending more and more time together. He isn't afraid to dance or have fun and I find that refreshing. I have to be so careful and guarded around Spock, but I can just be myself with Scotty and I feel so….so…_alive_. Do you think I should break it off with Spock?"

I also knew from experience to never make decisions for patients. "You will have to figure that out on your own," I said gently, "but it might help to sit down and think about what you want from a relationship right now. Do you want something casual or more serious? Are you looking for fun or stability? What are the things that you like and dislike about each of them? In the end you have to do what is right for you. If that means staying with Spock and trying to make it work, then fine. If it means deciding that you are not getting what you need from your current situation and calling it quits, then that has to be fine too. It is nice that you care so much for Spock, but relationships that are only one way affairs are unhealthy. Your happiness must mean something, you just have to find the courage to make it a priority."

"Yeah, you are right." She admitted hanging her head. "It is just so hard."

"No one said life was easy, but something tells me that you are not the kind of person that backs away from a challenge." I encouraged.

We both jumped when there was a knock at her door. "Uhura?" Came Jim's gravelly voice. "Do you know where Morgan is?"

Uhura got up and I moved so she could open the door. "She's with me." She informed in her silky voice as though nothing had happened.

Jim's bloodshot blue eyes peered around her and I waved. "Good," he said cheerily, "I thought we lost her somewhere last night. Anyway, Command says they will have the ship launch ready in four days. Looks like we won't get an extended leave after all. I don't know how they could possibly repair it in that time. Scotty is going to be pissed if they only half ass it."

"You'll just have to try harder next time." She laughed.

"Yeah, I'll tell Sulu to do a controlled crash landing next time." He said dryly. "Anyway, we have a launch time of 0700, so make the most of it."

"Jim," I called slowly standing, "can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure," He replied suspiciously, "I have a meeting with the Admiral in a few minutes, walk with me."

He walked briskly and I followed him in a light trot. I see Spock wasn't the only one fond of speed walking. "Jim, I was wondering how I would go about visiting Chicago while I was here."

"Chicago?" He laughed. "Why the hell would you want to go there?" He suddenly stopped and added, "Shit. That's probably where you are from, isn't it? Sorry." He began walking again and said, "Go back and have Uhura help you pack. I'll work it out."

I stopped, slightly winded while he went on. "Thanks!" I called after him. He waved in response and started running toward his destination.

I looked around and gradually panicked. I was so intent on following Jim that I hadn't paid one bit of attention to where we were going or even where we came from. There were no computer panels like the ship. Even if there were, I didn't know the name of the buildings so it would do no good to stop anyone to ask. I sat on the edge of the walkway and cursed my lack of directional skills. All I could really do was sit and wait and hope Jim took the same route back. I scanned each passing face in anticipation like a lost puppy.


	4. Chapter 4 Travel Companions

**Chapter 4- Travel Companions**

I never saw Jim again, but I almost exploded with excitement when I noticed Pavel strolling by eating what looked like ice cream. "Pavel!" I called excitedly. "Thank God."

His blue eyes lit up with surprise as he made his way toward me through the throng of pedestrian traffic. "Dr. Morgan. Vhy do you sit here? Are you vaiting for someone?" His young face was almost angelic as he looked down at me with a pleasant smile.

I stood up to face him and sheepishly said, "No, I am lost. I have never been good at directions."

His eyes fell just a little as he casually mused, "Vell, this is a strange place for you. It is not so strange that you forget your vay. I vill valk vith you." His voice was quiet and sweet but most of all completely free of any judgment or ridicule. He smiled and took another bite of his ice cream while I followed him.

"I'll bet being lost is a strange thing for you to understand being a navigator." I observed.

"Not really." He countered with a small shrug. "I have felt lost sometimes."

"When?" I asked intrigued.

He quickly swallowed his cold treat with a wince and replied, "Vhen I vas a child I got lost in the woods around my home during the vinter time. The trees seemed so big then." His eyes seemed far away as though he were seeing it clearly as he spoke. "But I figured it out. The snow vould come from the Vest and my home vas to the North, so I let the trees tell me vich vay to go by vhich side the snow was on." He said this with such certainty as though everyone should know to do this.

"How old were you?" I asked almost in awe.

He squinted as he thought and answered, "I think I vas about 6."

I laughed and stated, "Wow. You truly are a whiz-kid." He gave a faint smile, but it had the quality of social necessity rather than genuine amusement. There was something about it that bothered me. Perhaps he didn't like being noticed for his intellectual ability. The more I mulled it over, the more I realized the problem most likely was calling him 'kid.' Even though I was older, no 17 year old wants to be referred to as a child or thought of as such. His body may have been young, but his mind was much older. I stopped and he turned and looked at me expectantly. "Pavel, I am sorry." I stated with a smile. "It was rude of me to call you a kid. I didn't mean to insult you and I will try not to do it again."

His cheeks flushed ever so slightly as he smiled. "It is ok." He muttered looking at the ground. "The Captain and others do it all the time. I vill not be angry vith you if you forget."

We continued walking and I told him, "I can't control what the others do, but from my perspective you deserve more respect than that. You have proven yourself up there both by skill and bravery alongside everyone else. You know that they wouldn't bother with you if they didn't like you, but I know that they feel the same."

"Yes, I know that they tease me. But I get revenge in vays most unexpected." He said with a deviously wicked grin.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side." I laughed. "So, will you still have time to see your family before we go?" I asked as we neared the structures I recognized as the dorms.

"No," he said sadly, "There is not enough time. But I did get to talk vith them this morning. My brother Sasha is bigger than me now! He vants to join Starfleet like me, but my mother worries. I tell her I am fine, but you know…" He gave a helpless shrug and took another bite of ice cream.

"It's her job to worry about you, Pavel. That's what mothers do. Did you have any other plans?" I asked. I found him to be so easy to talk to and unassuming, very unexpected for a man his age. There was no sense of awkwardness or rush to fill gaps of silence, he was very honest and open yet careful to be unobtrusive.

"Probably just stay here." He answered gesturing vaguely with his spoon at the sprawling campus.

An unusual thought popped into my mind. "Pavel, I am going to Chicago. Do you want to go?"

He looked at me in surprise. "Really? But von't you be seeing family?" I noticed the slight cringe when the last word fell from his lips after he realized his mistake.

I smiled and let it pass. "No. I am just going to see how it has changed and to maybe say goodbye. If you have nothing else to do, I would be grateful for your company."

A slow smile climbed across his lips. "I vill go with you to see your city. You traveled to see my home now I vill go and see yours. Vhere should I meet you?"

"I am staying with Uhura for now. The Captain said he was making arrangements, but I haven't seen him." I lamented. I really hated the not knowing.

"We are leaving in two hours." Came a gruff voice. Pavel and I turned to see McCoy leaning against the wall with a 5:00 shadow, dark circles under his eyes, and a very sour look on his face. "I suggest you get your shit together."

I glanced at Pavel who was no doubt having second thoughts on his acceptance to my invitation. "Jim said he was going to make arrangements, but I didn't think…" I couldn't think of a tactful way to end the sentence without making it clear I was uncomfortable with the situation.

"Yeah. Highlight of my fucking day too, sweetheart." He grumbled with a squint. "Now get a move on so we can get this over with." He turned to go, pressing the palms of his hands against his temples and swaying a bit.

I again turned to look at Pavel, who was apparently amused with the whole situation. "It looks like the good doctor had too much last night." He mused with a smile. "And people vorry about me holding my alcohol. This woyage should be wery interesting."

We walked past McCoy's room where he left the door open. Inside I could hear the unmistakable sound of retching coming from the bathroom. I excused myself from Pavel who smiled and raised his eyebrows, but kept walking toward his room. It felt strange being in McCoy's room uninvited, like I was somehow intruding, but I stood in the doorway and waited for him to emerge, pale and breathing heavily. He noted my presence with a groan and stumbled to the bed where he fell face down, arms and legs splayed. He looked like absolute hell and probably felt every bit of it.

I cautiously approached and sat on the edge of the bed, placing my hand on his arm. "What can I do to help you?" I asked quietly.

His eyes flickered open before again closing to shut out the world. "Find something heavy and bash my head in." He replied sarcastically. "Anything to put me out of my fucking misery, I really don't care how you do it."

I smiled remembering how I felt a few hours ago. "How about some water?" I asked. "You must be dehydrated."

He smiled faintly and inquired, "So _you're_ the doctor now?"

"Well, someone has to do it. Who fixes you when you are broken?" I asked rhetorically as I got a glass from the bathroom and returned to hand it to him.

"No one." He mumbled into the mattress. "I don't get broken although Jim tries his damndest by getting me into fucking impossible situations with his hair brained plans. Christ, I'm not going to live to see middle age if I keep hanging out with that crazy bastard." He sat up enough to take a few sips of water which he clearly didn't enjoy. "Like this shit." He frowned. "What the fuck? Why me? I'm a goddamn doctor, not a tour guide." He took a deep breath and chugged the rest of the glass. I took it from him and refilled it although he didn't want anymore. "I tell you why he does it, he thinks the shit is funny. 'Let's see what kind of fucked up mess I can get Bones into so he gets all pissed off.' It's like a game to him. I am his goddamn personal entertainment and let me tell you, it sucks."

"You know, McCoy," I sighed, "you are obviously not feeling well. You don't have to go with me, Chekov said he would go. You could stay here and take care of yourself instead of making the long trip."

"The hell I can." He mumbled. "It's what I get for losing at poker…cheating motherfucker. You should have seen the goddamn smirk on his face this afternoon when he called it in. There I was, kneeling with my face over the goddamn toilet barking at the floor and he didn't even have the fucking courtesy to leave me be." He sighed and rubbed his temples. "If I don't go, god knows what kind of sick and twisted shit he will make me do. Probably run up and down the halls butt ass naked wearing a bonnet or something equally humiliating. Fuck him. Wait 'til the next time his sorry ass needs my help. A little hypospray injection will be the least of his worries."

"Ok," I chuckled, "I won't get into the middle of the revenge game the two of you have going. But if you insist on going, is there any medication or anything I can go get for you so you can at least tolerate the travel?"

He sighed and let his head fall back onto the pillows. "Nah. But I am warning you that I will probably be sleeping most of the way. At least you will have the boy wonder to keep you entertained. I hope he remembers to pack his teddy bear."

There was a light knock at the door as Spock entered. "Forgive the interruption, doctors. But I was just informed of your travel plans. I wish to remind the both of you of our launch date. Please endeavor to be on time upon returning from your voyage, delays in doing so will be noted." McCoy didn't even look at the half Vulcan when he raised his left hand to extend his middle finger. Spock did nothing more than raise an eyebrow and calmly state, "Interesting."

"Fuck off already, pointy eared bastard." McCoy growled.

"As you wish, doctor." He replied with a slight bow. Before he left, his eyes took in McCoy's prone, disheveled form and then he looked to me with another raised eyebrow as though to wish me good luck, but I knew Vulcans didn't believe in such things.


	5. Chapter 5 Sweet Home Chicago

**Chapter 5- Sweet Home Chicago**

Just as he had promised, McCoy slept almost the entire way on the transport shuttle. Occasionally I had to lightly jab him in the ribs when he snored loud enough to disturb the other passengers, but most of the time I just talked with Pavel. I listened with quiet interest as he told me about growing up in Russia without his father and how he had always felt different from other kids because of his advanced intellect. He wasn't in the least resentful about these things, it was just a fact of life for him just as his eyes were blue.

I was surprised to learn that most cities had climate control barriers, so although it was March, it should be temperate which is why no one had on winter gear. The level of technology in use never ceased to amaze me. Normally March would feel something like Siberia and I thought back to all the brutal winters I had endured where it was so cold it literally hurt to go outside. I couldn't say I missed that part and I wished they had something like that back then.

The shuttle operator announced that Chicago was the next stop and I found myself leaning across McCoy's lap to look out the window in anticipation. My smile grew as I spotted the skyline lit brightly against the darkness, but faded somewhat when I didn't recognize any of the buildings. Of course I knew that the city would have changed over all those years, but some part of me hoped that at least a few things would stay the same and the city I had loved would still retain the familiar charm that made it feel like home. Maybe in the daylight I could see better I told myself.

"So many wery big buildings." Pavel noted with a smile. "I have not seen so many in one place."

"Beautiful, isn't it?" I asked as though I had built it all myself. He politely nodded in agreement.

I awakened McCoy when it was time to exit at the stop which used to be the train station downtown. Thankfully the original structure was still intact with the grand reception hall and white marble interior in an opulent, stately architectural design. I looked around and smiled. It was exactly as I remembered it, vast and beautiful.

"Say the cheese!" Pavel exclaimed pulling McCoy in close while taking a picture of the three of us with his arm extended.

"Fuck!" McCoy said a bit too loudly as he covered his eyes after the bright flash blinded him. His voice echoed under the huge vaulted ceiling and a few people turned to look at him, but thankfully it was late and the gallery was mostly empty. "Goddamn it, man! Are you purposely trying to give me an aneurysm?" He moaned somewhat quieter.

"I'm sorry, Dr. McCoy. I forget about your headache." He said, although it seemed as though he didn't really mean it. I wondered what McCoy had done to incur the Russian's wrath. Was the last physical a little too rough?

"Whatever," He replied with a small wave, "let's just get to our quarters. I want to lay down and die until tomorrow."

We took a taxi to a hotel on the north side just past downtown, or the Loop as it used to be called, and I laughed like a maniac when I realized that the drivers were every bit as reckless as they ever were. McCoy was gripping the door handle, eyes wide most of the way as the driver weaved in and out of traffic and cut off other drivers by a whisker. "Jesus! Are they related to Jim?" He wondered aloud.

We checked in under McCoy's name and went our separate ways. My room was clean and efficient, but nothing fancy. I opened the curtain and was not in the least surprised to have a stunning view of the wall of the neighboring building. Views were at a premium even in my time. I took a nice and long hot shower before going to bed.

For the first time in a long time, I felt truly comfortable and at happy. I was happy to be home again even though so much had changed. But as I drifted off to sleep, I couldn't help but also feel a little sadness. Here I was so close to my old life, only about 3 miles from where I used to live and work, yet it was like seeing a ghost world parallel to your own. In the other reality, I could go to work and then home to kiss my husband goodnight. It didn't seem right that I be so close yet separated so much by time. But, that was why I was here; I had to kiss it all goodbye if I was ever going to truly get on with my life.

I woke fairly early the next morning, before the sun even came up. I used the room's replicator to make clothing and cringed at how much that must have cost, hotels were notorious for jacking up the price of services. I went downstairs and ordered a coffee from the snack shop and was surprised to see McCoy sitting at a table reading a paper.

"I thought you would be asleep." I smiled as I approached.

He looked up from his paper and I couldn't help but laugh when I saw it was the Chicago Tribune. Christ, I couldn't believe they were still in business. One of the most corrupt, biased news outlets in the city had somehow managed to survive like a cockroach. "I slept most of yesterday, couldn't sleep anymore." He grumbled.

"Feeling better?" I asked taking a sip of coffee.

"More or less." He answered with a shrug. "Maybe I should have one of those too." He gestured to my cup. He ordered a large black coffee and winced when he took a drink. "Where were you off to?"

I raised my eyebrows and replied, "I was actually going to go down to the beach to watch the sun rise over the lake."

"Sounds nice." He said with a sniff. "I haven't seen a sunrise in I can't remember when. Hell, I don't even get to see stars when we fly by them down in sick bay. The place has no windows. It's kinda like a casino all except the fun."

"Then why don't you come with me? It would be a shame to miss the opportunity." I invited. He seemed ambivalent as he stared intensely into the depths of his coffee. "Really, McCoy, it's ok for you to like walks on the beach and sunrises. I won't think any less of you."

He smirked and relented. "Fine, but not a word of this to anyone. Especially not the nurses! Christ, they would cackle like hens and I would never hear the end of it."

"I am the keeper of secrets." I sighed.

We walked the few short blocks to the beach and had a seat on a stone wall facing the lake. It was still dark, but there were a few people out jogging and walking. I kicked off my shoes and dug my toes into the cool sand while I listened to the sound of waves gently washing ashore and retreating again. "I didn't realize how much I really missed all of this." I admitted.

"What do you mean?" McCoy asked. His voice was refreshingly free of sarcasm or irritation. It was a conversational tone that I had hardly heard before. In fact, I thought I detected a southern accent.

"All of this." I answered gesturing around me. "The green trees, large moving bodies of water, sunrises and sunsets, seasonal cycles, all of the things you miss when you are in space."

"I guess I just never thought about it." He said quietly. "So why not stay?"

I almost laughed, but his face was serious. "Because I have nothing left here. There used to be a saying that went 'loving Chicago is like loving a woman with a broken nose.' I will always feel at home here, but sometimes love just isn't enough to make you stay."

"Charming." He snorted as he finished his coffee.

"So why don't you stay?" I countered.

He was silent as he rotated the empty cup in his hands. He stared out at the dark water for some time before he finally said, "Same as you, I guess. Love wasn't enough."

I could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn't ready to be pushed any further, so I just nodded. We sat there in a comfortable silence until the sun broke the horizon first in a brilliant red, then oranges, yellows and blues. It was as though we were seeing it for the first time and we were humbled by the power and beauty of nature at work. The only thing that was more beautiful to me in that moment was the knowledge that I would have the opportunity to see others like it on far away worlds.

When the sun had completely cleared the horizon, McCoy said, "We should go back and get Chekov." I agreed and we got a few feet away before he stopped. "Hold on a sec." He instructed as he jogged back and ducked behind the wall. He quickly emerged and jogged toward me and we resumed our walk without saying a word.

We met up with Chekov and spent most of the day doing the typical touristy things such as walking the Mag Mile lined with high end shops. The only store that had remained from my time surprisingly was Burberry. I pointed out both things that remained and locations of landmarks that had since been torn down and replaced. Pavel took many pictures, or rather McCoy did just to avoid being in them. Most of the city had been modified from the old brick and mortar construction to ultra modern steel and glass, but enough of the old city remained to keep a perpetual smile on my face until dinner.

"Since we are here in Chicago, we have to have traditional grub." I announced. "We have to find a deep dish pizza immediately." Sadly, all of the places I would have patronized had long since gone out of business, but we got a recommendation from a police officer who was patrolling. The police uniforms had changed substantially to a more militaristic style that I found frightening, but it seemed a logical progression since even then some neighborhoods were like urban combat zones.

The waiter brought the pizza and as was apparently still custom, served each person a slice of the monstrous 4 inch thick pie. Pavel took a picture of it while McCoy stared it down. "Christ! There must be 10,000 calories with all that cheese and shit. That is a coronary on a plate. I can feel my arteries hardening already." He complained.

"But what a delicious way to die." I mused as I took a bite.

"I vonder if we can get the replicators to make this." Pavel asked. He had somehow managed to devour half of his serving already. "I vould like to have this again! Everything is so big in America, even the food!"

"Slow down, Ensign." McCoy warned. "You will make yourself sick and I will be damned if I am going to spend the night holding your head out of the toilet." Pavel did slow down the speed with which he was packing it in, but he didn't hesitate to go for a second helping. "So what's on tap for tomorrow?"

"I think there is really only one more place I would like to go and then maybe we can spend the rest of our time doing something you guys are interested in." I suggested.

McCoy took a long drink of his beer and knowingly asked, "The hospital?" I just smiled.

"So you _are_ a mind reader!" Pavel laughed. "You always say to Captain 'damn it I'm a doctor, not a mind reader' but you just did read Dr. Morgan's mind!" I laughed so hard my side hurt at his impression of McCoy in a thick Russian accent.

McCoy didn't find it so funny. "I can also project thoughts," He growled, "concentrate really hard. What am I thinking?"

Pavel's eyes fell to the table and he meekly said, "You vant that I shut up or you vill get even."

"You are a smart kid after all." He complimented finishing off his beer.


	6. Chapter 6 Letting Go

**Chapter 6- Letting Go**

The next morning we made our way to the west side, the location of the hospital where I used to work. I faced the location where I used to see patients, but I didn't recognize anything. The entire complex had been torn down and rebuilt. Only the name remained. I was a little at a loss as to what to do next. I was counting on something that I had recognized so I could finally leave it behind, but there was no trace to mourn. "They used to call this area the Medical District because it was my hospital, one affiliated with a state university, a veteran's hospital, and the county hospital all together." I muttered. "Now it looks like it is all gone."

McCoy looked around at the sprawling interconnected buildings. Sirens of ambulances screamed past occasionally while people wearing what I assumed to be modern medical uniforms went about their business. "Looks like the hospital I trained in at Ole Miss," he observed, "but really they all look the same I guess." Pavel snapped some more pictures and McCoy shot him an annoyed glance.

"Ve can go in," Pavel suggested, "maybe they have old pictures or maybe information. 10 people just disappeared that day."

I sighed heavily. "It was a long time ago, Pavel. Even if they had some record of it, the abductions would have seemed random since we were only connected by this location. Believe me, people stop caring after awhile. I doubt anyone even noticed I was gone at first."

_Me? What about Debbie? I bet no one ever noticed she was gone if they never seemed to notice her when she was there._

"Bullshit." McCoy said emphatically. "I don't believe for one second that you went unnoticed." I just stood staring at the scene of my abduction searching for something, anything. "Hey," He said quietly leaning in close so Pavel couldn't hear, "are you going to be ok?"

He looked genuinely concerned and I smiled. "Eventually." I almost whispered. "It just feels like visiting your own grave. This is where my life ended."

"It did," he stated, "but you got a new one. Still, I understand the need to grieve for the loss of everything that you knew, so I will leave you alone to pay your last respects." He gave me a light pat on the shoulder and turned to lead Pavel several steps away to wait.

I thought about my old life and all of the patients I had seen both here and elsewhere. I thought about my coworkers and my personal life. But the more I looked at the new buildings that surrounded me, the more I realized that the world had moved on without me and it was time I did too. The only remaining trace of the world I knew now existed in my own memory and I no longer saw a need to keep reliving it as though I could somehow go back and change anything. Letting go of the guilt and fear felt bittersweet, but at least I could now take my place in the here and now rather than looking back. I finally felt free. I would always love the city, but now I could love it for what it was instead of what it used to be.

I approached the two men and asked, "So what did you guys want to do? I think I am done here."

McCoy gave me a small nod, but left it up to Pavel who decided to take in a comedy show and then enjoy a quiet dinner at the top of one of the many skyscrapers. The lights twinkled below us and the dimly lit dining room made the time spent together intimate. McCoy's table manners were shockingly appropriate for the occasion, that was until the waiter brought a drink to him courtesy of a beautiful blonde at the bar. He quickly went from being relaxed to agitated because he didn't want to be rude, but he wasn't in the mood for a hookup either. "Damn it," he whispered, "she has some balls! How does she know we aren't together? You should be offended!"

I smiled and asked, "Do you want me to go over there and defend your honor? Tell her you are a doctor, chicks dig that. Especially her."

"How do you know that?" He asked glancing in her direction.

"Unless things have changed drastically, which I highly doubt, it is written all over her. She looks too young to be a professional herself, and she is dressed a little scantily for this particular establishment. She is clearly fishing for a sugar daddy and if you tell her you are a doctor, all she will hear is a cash register ringing." I told him with a sigh.

He lowered his voice and gave me a wicked smile. "I just thought as my _wife_ you would be at least a little jealous." My jaw dropped faster than I could catch it prompting his smile to go full blown. "Yeah, he dropped that little gem on me along with the ultimatum." He added taking a sip of the free drink. "Imagine my surprise."

"Well, I don't mind you thanking a lady for her misguided kindness, but don't keep me waiting. I might have to leave you for a younger man." I said coyly nodding toward an obviously embarrassed Pavel.

"Yes, dear." He dutifully said excusing himself from the table. It had just enough realism to it to make it somehow sad.

I didn't have to wait long before he returned and settled back in. "You're up, Chekov." He said with a sigh.

"Sir?" Pavel asked panicked.

"Yeah, she wants to talk to you." He said breezily. "I told her you were on the fast track to Starfleet Captain and she lost interest in me, so go get her!"

"But, Sir! I do not know the lady!" He protested as he went pale.

"And you won't as long as you sit here." McCoy grumbled, "Chekov, it isn't polite to keep a lady waiting. Now get your ass in gear before I kick it over there myself."

It was like watching him escort the Klingons all over again. The same defeated, hopeless posture, the same look of dread on his face. I felt bad for him, but I knew he would figure a way out of it soon. I also knew McCoy was again public enemy number one on his shit list.

"What did you tell her you did for a living?" I asked flatly.

"Sanitation. Turns out chicks don't dig that as much." He said finishing his free drink. "Little bastard deserves it for the stunt he pulled at the depot, damn near putting my eyes out."

I sighed. And so the wheel turned again. It seemed like a modern day version of the Hatfields and McCoys. I wondered if he was a descendent of that family, it would sure explain a lot….

"So when are we leaving tomorrow?" I asked glancing over at Pavel who was artfully evading her attempts to touch him. She seemed overly gropey.

"0900. That will put us back in plenty of time for Spock to pull the rod out of his ass." He answered rolling his eyes. "If there is anyone that pisses me off more than Jim it is that hobgoblin motherfucker."

The man behind McCoy turned to give him a dirty look and I smiled apologetically. "Mind your manners." I scolded. He gave me a sour look, but didn't say anything more. "So what will we be doing when we launch?" I asked.

"You mean the mission?" He clarified. "The same old thing- go forth and find new civilizations blah blah. My personal mission? To stay the hell away from that transporter and try not to get involved with anything Jim is doing at any particular moment. I would like to hide in a closet somewhere until we land again, but in reality I know that I will be expected to pull one miracle after another out of my ass all while being exposed to whole new breeds of contagion and disease for which there is no cure, but is sure to cause great pain and suffering. Just another day on the Enterprise." His features had gone dark and I was left amazed at how quickly his mood could swing.

"I am sure it can be incredibly stressful for you at times," I said reassuringly, "but you are an outstanding doctor, I am living proof of your talent. Besides, you will have me on this trip."

"See, that's where I am confused," He smirked, "exactly how do I have you? As a wife? A colleague?" He squinted for effect, "I am not sure what the exact nature of our relationship is supposed to be."

"Then let me define it for you." I said leaning across the table. "First and foremost I do not in any way belong to you. I am not your property, you sick chauvinist bastard. I am your coworker and your professional colleague. I am also your counselor as you or I see fit just as you are my physician. Is that clear enough?"

He chuckled and put his hands up in mock surrender. "I was just kidding, sister. I am down with women's rights, it's just that you are so damn funny when you are angry. You try so hard to control it when maybe you should just let it fly sometimes."

"Like you?" I asked amused. "That approach doesn't go over so well on my side of the fence and I doubt it would get many positive results if I screamed at someone for not feeling better or making a bad decision."

"We should call it a night." McCoy said standing from the table. "We can't miss that shuttle or Spock will have our asses, or so he thinks." As he walked past Pavel, he clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Come on, kid. It is past your bedtime. Even Captains have to go night night sooner or later." Pavel's face turned a crimson red and I knew that although he was trying to help, McCoy dug the hole he was already in much deeper. I didn't know what kind of revenge Pavel had in mind, but I knew he would somehow make it sweet.


	7. Chapter 7 Back to Base

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who has picked up on this story! It was a little slow in starting, but we will be back to business in the next chapter, I promise. I will be gone for the next week, so I can't promise any updates during that time, but I will try. Thanks again for the reviews!**

**Chapter 7- Back to Base**

The three of us sat on a bench in the grand hall of the shuttle depot, waiting for the 0900 to San Francisco. I looked around the great hall and smiled. A part of me would always miss the city that pulsed with so much life, but for the most part I felt fine leaving it behind to see new worlds and the cities on them. Who knows? Maybe I would come to love one of them just as much.

"Thank you guys for coming along." I said to my companions. "I am sure you could have found better uses for your shore leave than to escort me around."

"You are wrey velocme." Pavel replied with his graceful smile. "I enjoyed the city. I vill tell my mother about it and send her the pictures I took. She vill never believe such a place exists! So many tall buildings and millions of people all in one place, it is wery different from our home in the willage."

"God knows you took enough of them." McCoy grumbled. "I could almost swear you were on some kind of goddamn charting mission the way you were documenting everything. It isn't like this place hasn't been here for centuries." He obviously hadn't had his morning coffee yet.

I looked back to Pavel and said, "I am glad you enjoyed it, even if Dr. Pessimist didn't."

He scowled at me. "I didn't say I didn't like it. It is a nice enough place, I guess. It's just…" he looked around at the white marble room that seemed like a mausoleum, "it's just not what I am used to."

"And what are you used to?" I inquired.

"Nature." He replied flatly. "Trees, hills, streams. Not miles of artificial monstrosities that block out the sun."

"Really?" Pavel asked with quiet excitement. "Me too! I grew up in woods where I hunt and fish and hike." It was as though he never expected to have anything in common with his superior officer other than a long running grudge match. McCoy gave him a small smile and a clap on the shoulder.

The trip back was quiet, but torturous for me. The two previous times I had been on shuttles, it had been dark and I couldn't really see or feel how fast we were actually going. In the daylight, the scenery was one constant blur that made my head swim. I kept my eyes closed as much as possible, prompting McCoy to laugh. "Why didn't you tell me you got motion sickness?" He snickered. "I could have got some medicine for you before we left Chicago."

I didn't open my eyes for fear of vomiting. "I didn't tell you because I had never before had motion sickness. Roller coasters never bothered me. Boats never made me sick. But none of those things went as fast as we seem to be going now."

"Vhat about airplanes?" Pavel asked innocently. "They vent pretty fast."

"I hated flying." I admitted. "I did it only when there was no other option because it was the rational thing to do. But I hated every minute of it. Every time it would shake in the slightest, I thought we were going to die in a crash." I was distracted by the sensation of cold metal against my neck. Before I could flinch, McCoy pulled the trigger on a hypospray gun and I winced at the stinging sensation. When I opened my eyes, he was tossing it back into his bag. "You carry one of those things with you all the time?!" I exclaimed rubbing my neck.

"Just when I travel." He answered dryly. "How do you think I am not crawling out of my skin right now? I don't trust these damn things anymore than you liked airplanes. I have to damn near sedate myself to keep from losing my fucking mind thinking about all of the things that could go wrong. That shot will calm your nerves, but it won't do anything for the nausea. Just do me a favor and remember who it was that tried to help you when it comes time to choose who to throw up on."

We made it to San Francisco sans any accidental protein spills, although it took a lot of deep breathing and swallowing to ensure that outcome. The three of us parted ways at our rooms and I waved goodbye to the two men. It had been an interesting trip, but it all in all it went better than I thought it would. I was still glad that Pavel went along, traveling alone with McCoy would have been a little too much for me. Not that I was in any way afraid of him, he didn't seem to be a predator or anything, but the casual, pessimistic, detached lenses with which he viewed the world was disconcerting. It made sense and certainly had a place when he was faced with medical emergencies, but it was like he was always on call and he had no idea how to turn it off and just enjoy the moment when he was off duty.

I stood facing the door to Uhura's room baffled. Usually the door opened if you walked up to it. Was hers broken? I looked around and saw a panel of flashing lights on the left side of the opening. When I approached, a red light would flash, but the door didn't budge. I knocked on it, but got no answer. Was she still sleeping? Did she go out? It was 10:00am and I was apparently locked out. I sat in the hall across from her door and decided to wait.

Many people walked past me, but none seemed to take particular notice of the strange woman sitting alone in the hallway. At 11:17, Jim came stumbling down the hallway with his arm around a woman. I tried not to stare, but she was entirely green. Not tinted green like Spock's skin, but a vibrant emerald green that I simply could not look away from. Her hair was long, curly, and very red. The juxtaposition between the green skin and red hair was shocking and I had to force myself to look away. Kingons suddenly seemed normal in comparison.

"Doc!" Jim shouted with a crooked smile and floppy wave. He had obviously been drinking and from the condition of his face, fighting. He turned to his companion and told her, "She's gonna keep a leash on Bones, that's her job now. You 'member Bones, right?" She nodded her head yes with an amused look in her eyes. "Yeah, I 'spose you wouldn't forget waking up in his bed thinking it was me when we were roomies. Heh! Damn was he pissed!" He looked back to me and added with a defensive wave, "But that was an accident. He didn't know you then. S'not cheating."

I just gave him a bewildered look and shook my head. McCoy's social dalliances were really none of my business and I really didn't want to know. Still, the green woman may have been a very nice person, but I would have been pissed too. I didn't know that McCoy and Jim were once roommates. Now McCoy's ranting about the Captain made more sense and I could just imagine what that situation must have been like. Jim bringing a different woman back every weekend to their tiny shared quarters and McCoy either having to leave or face away from them with a pillow wrapped around his head trying to block out the noise…

The two disappeared down the hall and I was once again left alone wondering where Uhura was. I wondered what she had decided to do about her relationship with Spock. She seemed so torn. She did seem to have very deep and genuine feelings about him, and I knew that Spock was capable of feeling the same even if he didn't show it. But how could he possibly expect her to endure love that appeared to be unrequited? The setup may have worked well for him, but in the end she was no Vulcan and needed more than perhaps he was able to give.

I certainly did not wish any pain for Spock. He was not the bad guy in all of this, he was simply acting according to his nature. He was not malicious in his withholding of affection, he did not do it as a means of manipulation or control; it was just not a custom of his culture to be so open and to expect him to suddenly feel fine with human standards of conduct was ridiculous. Perhaps with time he could better assimilate, but it wasn't going to happen overnight. If the relationship were to end, he would bear it stoically and go about his duties as though nothing had changed even though he would be screaming on the inside because that was what was expected of him. It saddened me to think of him suffering in silence, but I knew that was exactly what would happen.

What gave me pause was wondering if I had the ability to help him. His mind simply didn't work like everyone else's and I wasn't sure that current theories of human psychology would apply. This was all assuming he would ask for help or somehow tip me off in the first place. While I was becoming more attuned to the subtle nonverbal communication he often employed, he could lock himself up like Fort Knox when he wanted to. If Jim was notorious for denying physical injury, it seemed like Spock would be equally resistant to having his mental stability called into question. At least McCoy had irrefutable proof of injury to force Jim into compliance with his treatment, if Spock insisted he was fine I was left with very few options. The only thing I could do would be declare him unfit for duty, but that was a very serious and heavy trump card that I prayed I would not have to drop on anyone.

"Dr. Collins, what are you doing out here?" I looked up to see Sulu smiling down at me.

"I guess I am locked out." I laughed. I felt so stupid in that moment. Even though I was a reasonably smart person, I wasn't doing so well off the ship in terms of navigation and successfully interacting with technology.

Sulu looked at Uhura's closed door thoughtfully. "You know, I haven't seen her since we all went out." He apparently gave it little thought as he shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe she went somewhere for her leave. I was just going down to Chekov's quarters to play cards. Do you want to hang out with us?" He absentmindedly shuffled a deck in his hands as he spoke.

"Sure," I answered getting up, "if Pavel can stand being around me a little while longer."

Pavel was glad to add another seat to the small table he had set up in the middle of his room. "Do you play poker?" Sulu asked shuffling the cards.

"Not really. I get the concept, but I forget what beats what." I admitted.

"We aren't playing for money anyway." He shrugged. "So now would be a good time to learn. I warn you though," he said with a nod towards Pavel, "_that_ one is a math genius and he knows how to count cards. Don't let his innocent look fool you and _never_ play him for money that you can't afford to lose. He will scalp you and not think twice about it." He began to deal the cards with a chuckle.

Pavel turned pink and said to Sulu, "I vould never take advantage of a lady, just the Captain, or Scotty if he gets too drunk and makes fun of me for being young or my accent vhen I make announcements. I vill never understand how he can say my accent is bad vhen his is just as hard to understand."

"Yeah, he doesn't seem to know when to shut up if he has had too much to drink. But you forgot McCoy." Sulu reminded.

Pavel looked at his cards with a sly grin but didn't say a word.


	8. Chapter 8 A Gift

**A/N: Ok, I lied. One more for the road…**

**Chapter 8- A Gift**

There was a buzz of excitement in the air even though it was the crack of dawn. Shore leave was officially over and everyone once more filed onto the newly refitted and repaired Enterprise. I for one was glad to have an assigned place to stay, it was late and Uhura had not returned from wherever so I ended up on the floor of Pavel's room. It was strangely not as awkward as I thought it would be. All of my belongings were just as I had left them in my quarters when I got there. We still had about a half hour before launch, so I quickly threw everything back into the white box that Spock had brought and sought him out. The computer told me he was in his quarters, so I followed the instructions given and of course got lost. I had never before been to his floor, but after a few more consultations with the computer managed to find his room just as he was walking out.

"Spock!" I called relieved to see him.

He turned to me, but didn't seem to question me looking for him. "Doctor." He greeted with a nod.

"I wanted to find you before we took off to ask if you think Starfleet would have any use for my stuff." He looked at the box and then to me with only a hint of confusion in his eyes. "I don't need it anymore." I explained. "In fact, I was going to just incinerate it all if they couldn't use it."

He took the box from me and looked through it. "Doctor, these were your personal belongings. I do not understand why you wish to dispose of them."

"I can't really explain it all to you, Spock. I just would rather it not be on the ship with me." I answered.

He looked back down to the box and quietly said, "I believe the Starfleet antiquities museum may desire to preserve your contribution." He pulled out my lab coat and refolded it neatly before placing it back in. "Doctor," he called as I walked away, "I believe you may have included this in error."

I looked back to see him holding up my wedding band, the circle of grey metal strangely complimented his skin tone. "That was no accident," I told him with a smile, "that goes with it. I can't be married to a ghost anymore."

He rotated the ring while he studied it before gently placing it back in the box. "If you are certain of your decision, Doctor, I will send it to the museum before we launch." I thanked him and made my way to deck 5.

I immediately made coffee from the replicator and was drawn by the sounds of arguing. I followed the hushed, angry tones to see McCoy and Jim by his office. McCoy did not look happy at all. "Damn it, Jim! You pigeonholed me into a fucking broom closet to begin with and now this?!"

"Bones, I really didn't have a lot of leeway here." Jim sighed. "It was this or taking out space from the sickbay and you are always bitching about how you don't have enough room for all the people I send your way." Jim noticed McCoy's eyes boring holes into me and he turned to look too. "Hey!" He greeted with his lopsided smile. "Come see your new office!"

"Goddamn it, Jim! It is _my_ fucking office!" McCoy growled.

"Actually, it belongs to the both of you now," he corrected, "and I do not want any pissing contests over it. The two of you just have to play nice, do I make myself clear?" He looked to McCoy and I awaiting an answer. I shrugged, it was really no big deal to me. I had my own office at the hospital, but I had shared space with others before.

McCoy obviously hadn't. "I am so tired of your bullshit! If we were not on duty, I would so fucking lay you out right here." He said to Jim said pointing at the floor to mark the spot.

"But…?" Jim asked in a hopeful voice.

"Fuck you, Jim." He replied turning away from him while he could still control his rage. Jim looked at me and shrugged with a smile. He obviously thought McCoy would get over it and he didn't seem to take him too seriously. Great for him, he could just saunter back up to the bridge but I had to work with him the rest of the day.

After he left, I cautiously approached the door to the office to see McCoy at his desk, which had now been pushed closer to the door, with his head in his hands. In the far corner, a smaller desk equipped with a flat panel monitor had been positioned facing the wall. I assumed that one was mine and I took a seat. McCoy didn't make any effort to move, so I rifled through the drawers and found a PADD. I had seen people with these and they appeared to be ultra modern Blackberries. They seemed to do everything, but I didn't know how to use one. I poked at random buttons, but it didn't seem to be doing anything. I had never seen anyone speak to theirs…

"I can't fucking believe this." McCoy moaned to his desk. "First I get married off against my will like it was some goddamn joke and if that wasn't the be all fucking end all, now you are taking over my personal space."

I looked over at him and replied, "Need I remind you that we are not, repeat NOT married." He didn't move and I narrowed my eyes at him as I felt a mean streak come on. "Am I really that bad a person to you?" I asked feigning hurt.

He looked up and seemed surprised. "No. I…I didn't mean it like that." He stammered.

"So then you wouldn't mind being married to me?" I inquired with a devilish smirk.

His eyes hardened when he realized what I was doing. "Goddamn it! That is why I can't make sense of you women! You take my words and twist them around. Women are so fucking evil, all of you."

I raised my eyebrows while I continued to fiddle with the PADD. "It was a simple question, McCoy. All you have to do is answer it."

"Bullshit!" He exclaimed "It was not a simple question! No matter what I say I am fucked! Why do you do that shit?" He seemed exasperated yet somehow desperate and I thought it was hilarious.

"Because it is easy and you are so funny when you are angry." I laughed.

He squinted at me and sighed. "Typical. Women are the ninjas of mind fucking and you are their queen."

"You have no idea." I smiled. "All women are born knowing how to do it on some level, but with my training…" I trailed off and whistled. "But I never use my powers for evil. However, feel free to bow to me whenever the mood strikes." He laughed in spite of himself and I had achieved my goal of lightning the mood enough to hopefully get through the day.

"Velcome back ladies and gentlemen." Chekov's voice rang from the speaker. "Ve vill be ready for launch in 5 minutes to continue our mission of locating and making contact vith other worlds. Please make any last minute arrangements and report to stations."

"Well, we are at ours." McCoy said digging through his drawers. "Here." He said tossing something to me. A small glass specimen jar rested in my hands. I turned it and watched what looked like yellow sand tumble and fall before looking back at McCoy. "I was going to give it to you later, but since you will be more or less living here…" He grumbled.

"Where did you get this?" I asked still puzzled.

"At the beach in Chicago." He said somewhat embarrassed. "These missions can go on for some time and we never really know when we will see Earth again. Now you never have to feel so far from home."

I continued to turn the jar and a warm smile spread across my face at the thought of holding a piece of home in my hands. "Thank you, McCoy. This was a very thoughtful and welcome gift." I said. He looked elsewhere and grumbled something, completely unable to gracefully accept a compliment. "I will put it right here where I can see it." I stated setting on top of the desk by the monitor.

McCoy spent most of the morning showing me how to use the PADD as well as entering notations in patient files using the computer. I was paying attention, but I couldn't help but steal small glances at the jar on my desk. Every time I looked at the golden contents, a warm burst of happiness bloomed in my heart. It was the last thing I had expected from McCoy.


	9. Chapter 9 Fighting Ghosts

**Chapter 9- Fighting Ghosts**

It was amazing how normal everything felt. We had left Earth only weeks before, but it seemed as though we never left the ship. Everyone resumed their normal functions with an urgent, comfortable sense of familiarity. Every morning I got up, went down to deck 5, made the rounds, went to lunch with Uhura and whoever was available that day, finished my shift, ate dinner with McCoy, Scotty, and anyone else brave enough to join in, and then attended fencing lessons with Sulu before going to bed feeling like my ass had been worked over.

Sulu learned that I used to collect swords during lunch with Uhura one day and he enthusiastically told me about his passion for fencing. His eyes lit up like I had never seen before while he told us about the amount of skill required. Despite telling him that I collected swords as works of art and not weapons to swing at people, he insisted that I stop by the recreation room that night to watch him and Chekov practice. There was no way I could deny his simple request, he seemed positively exuberant at the prospect of sharing his hobby with me. He didn't flinch even when he was being fired on when the Romulans attacked, so to see him so excited underlined the fact that it was sort of a big deal to him.

I watched as he and Chekov danced around each other in an intricate flurry of lunging and deft defense, foils clashing and bending until Sulu managed to sidestep Pavel's attack and stab him in the chest with the blunted end of his weapon. I applauded and Sulu removed his mask to flash a thousand watt smile. "It was very graceful." I complimented. "Now I realize how much skill is involved, I am sure it is harder than it looks."

"I can teach you." Sulu offered. "I am showing Chekov how to do it, and he is coming along very quickly."

"I am no athlete by any stretch of the imagination." I laughed. "I am not sure who it would be more painful for, you or me."

In the days that followed, I found the answer and it definitely wasn't Sulu. I had to give it to him, he had seemingly endless patience with me, but that didn't mean he was at all merciful. I swore Saren never worked me over as much as Sulu did. "Again!" he would shout after I had failed to execute a particular maneuver correctly for the hundredth time. But I knew there was no leaving the room until I nailed it to his satisfaction, so weak and out of breath, I resumed my position for yet another attempt.

It was all I could do not to fall across McCoy's desk and weep in agony. Muscles I didn't know I had hurt. McCoy knew, of course, but he wouldn't say anything as he watched me wince when I moved too fast. He knew I would refuse any medication as long as it was still bearable, as a general rule I didn't like being pumped full of drugs if I could do without them. But I was getting better. Sulu would sometimes compliment me on my form and it gave me the encouragement to keep going despite the slow progress and the pain. I found an almost perverse pleasure in the pain, it meant I was pushing myself further than I thought I could go to learn a new skill and I found the challenge rewarding. Jim and Spock even came to watch once at Sulu's invitation. The two looked on while I faced Chekov. Jim yelled various comments through the bout, but Spock stood quietly and observed with all the intensity of watching paint dry until Chekov scored by disarming me. It was no surprise he would win since he was better trained, but I felt that I gave it my best and he was naturally a good sportsman about it.

"Maybe next time, Doc." Jim said slapping me on the back.

"An impressive attempt, doctor." Spock commented. "Perhaps with continued practice you will become better skilled. The logic with which you anticipated and reacted to Mr. Chekov's advances was sound, but I believe it is your technique that must improve if you are to be successful in this pursuit."

"Thank you, Spock." I panted. That was probably as close as I would ever come to a compliment from him.

"Again?" Sulu asked swinging his sword in a wide arc at his side. As if the last match wasn't enough of a beat down.

"Let's go, Obi-Wan." I smiled putting my mask back on. He laughed every time I compared him to the Jedi master and as such he was quick to teach me a lesson by defeating me in a matter of seconds as though he were shooing a fly. I had such a long way to go… But we shook hands and no hard feelings were ever carried beyond the floor.

"Obi-Wan?!" Jim howled clearly amused. "Wait, does that make Chekov Luke?"

"Sure," I laughed, "you would make a fine Han Solo, Spock clearly has to be Yoda- no contest there. So that only leaves McCoy as Chewy."

"He yells like him." Sulu chuckled.

"Or Darth Vader the way he rules deck 5 with an iron fist." Jim looked at Spock who either didn't get the reference or was not in the mood for frivolous comparisons. "Hey," Jim said with a smile, "Yoda was a badass. Be thankful you don't look anything like Jaba." Spock didn't even bat an eye. "Ah!" Jim sighed waving him off and turning to me. "You have to be Princess Leah!"

"No way!" I protested. "Let Uhura do that, she would probably look much better in the costume. Padme is more my style- a mediating force."

"HA!" Jim jumped and shouted with a huge grin. "Do you realize what you just did?" He almost squealed. "It is too perfect! If you are Padme, you are married to McCoy and Chekov is your son! How funny is that? You two can't get away from each other even in an alternate reality!"

"But then Chekov is Uhura's brother," Sulu chimed in, "and that means you have to kiss her at least once." Pavel casually shrugged and my heart sank.

It was ever so subtle, but I saw it clear as day. Spock's eyes wavered for just a second as he looked at the floor and I knew then and there what Uhura had decided. No one else knew that this conversation had suddenly become unbearable for him and there was no way he could tell them. I approached him and said, "Spock, I am feeling a little dizzy. Can you walk with me to my quarters?"

Everyone stopped laughing and Sulu asked, "Are you going to be ok, Dr. Collins?"

"I probably just need to drink some water and lay down for a minute. It is probably nothing." I lied.

"If you are unwell, I should notify Dr. McCoy at once." Spock stated assuming his default stance with his hands behind his back.

I took a small step closer and gave him a hard look that only he could see and replied, "I am sure I will be fine. I just need someone to walk with me." I then gave him a small smile and hoped he wasn't too dense at picking up hints.

He looked down at me with equally intense eyes before he relented. "Very well, doctor. I will escort you to your quarters." His left eye twitched just before he turned away, but the rest of his face was unreadable as usual.

We only got a few steps out of the rec room before he stated in a low voice, "Your claim of illness was disingenuous. I recall your appearance when you last were genuinely 'dizzy' as you called it. You showed no signs on this occasion. So what was the motivation for your deception?" He was trying to keep the irritation out of his voice, but his eyes were a boiling cauldron.

"I saw you, Spock." I said quietly. "I know."

He paused to look at me. Outwardly he remained the personification of perfect protocol; head up, shoulders back, neutral expression. But his eyes had become absolutely vacant in a haunting way that betrayed his carefully constructed façade. It was the look of the walking dead and I had seen it a million times before. My worst nightmare had come true much sooner than I had imagined. "Doctor, if you are requiring me to participate in a psychological evaluation, I will comply. Otherwise, I wish to decline."

"Spock," I replied in a soothing tone, "I would like to think that you would participate for your own good and not because you feel forced into it. If you are not ready, we do not have to do this now. The last thing I want to do is traumatize you even more."

His eyes became a damn that tried desperately to hold back the flood of emotion that raged inside. It was almost too painful to watch, but I couldn't look away least he feel that what little emotion he was showing was inappropriate and clamp down even more. He took a deep breath and his eyes cleared. "I do not wish to participate at this time." He stated. Far from the usual authoritative tone he most often employed, he seemed to be asking for mercy in his own way.

"Ok." I consented. "But promise me you will come and find me when you are ready. No matter what time of day or night, I am here." I assured. He gave a quick nod and walked briskly down the hall and out of sight much like he had the first time he walked me to my room. If it were anyone else I may have been more persistent, but I knew Spock was a man of his word. If he said he would locate me when he could better bear it, then he would. All I had to do was wait.

"You lost again?" McCoy asked walking up behind me. His expression changed when I didn't respond. He looked down the empty hall and inquired, "Are you ok? You look like you have seen a ghost."

"I did." I sighed. "I just saw the ghost of a man." McCoy's eyes darted around as though he didn't know how to respond. "So where were you off to?" I asked relieving the tension in the air.

"My quarters." He answered still perplexed. "It's getting late. Beauty sleep and all…are you sure you are ok?" His eyes were intense.

"Yeah." I faked a smile. "Hazard of the job."

He shook his head knowingly. "Then my prescription is a stiff shot of whatever will knock your ass out. About a half bottle of bourbon does it for me, but you will probably only need a thimble full. I heard about the party in the lounge." His eyes twinkled.

"Yeah, why didn't you go?" I asked. "For crying out loud, even Spock was there! I wouldn't think you would let him show you up like that."

His eyes again became dark and he mumbled, "I saw a ghost. Hazard of the job. Besides, I was under the impression that you hated me anyway."

"Hate is a pretty strong word…" I mused.

"Ok, dislike intensely…whatever. What was it you called me? A menace? Maniac?" He asked smiling. "Was that your professional opinion, Doctor?"

"You heard that?" I laughed. "I was telling Spock that you needed time off and I do not recall the term I used." Pleading ignorance seemed the best option.

"Yeah, but now you see that I am always on call. I have a snowball's chance in hell of getting a moment's peace as long as Jim is conscious and moving about the ship. The shit is liable to hit the fan at any second with him. He is a walking disaster just waiting to happen." He rubbed his face with his hands in frustration.

"Go to bed and try to get some rest. You seem tired." I suggested.

"Yeah, yeah." He grumbled. "Don't nag me, woman." He flashed a sly smile to let me know he was joking. Otherwise I would have gone off on him for the sexist remark and he knew it.

"You aren't going to just let this go, are you?" I asked laughing.

"Not by a long shot." He answered. "If I got roped into this ridiculous plot, at least let me have some laughs out of it for Christ sake."


	10. Chapter 10 She Said

**Chapter 10- She Said**

I had no more than showered when the door alerted me to someone's presence. I answered it and Uhura took one look at me and burst out laughing. It took some doing and lots of experimentation, but I figured out how to make customized pajamas from the replicator. Tonight I wore a two piece light blue set covered with teddy bears dressed as clowns. Perhaps only McCoy knew that despite my sometimes uptight professionalism, I actually had an offbeat sense of humor. You had to laugh in this job to keep from going crazy yourself.

"Too cute!" she gasped wiping her eyes. "I was going to ask if you were busy, but obviously…" she gestured to my attire and cracked up again.

"Glad I could be a source of amusement. Get in here before someone else sees me." I smiled. Not that I really cared, but it might make it harder for that person to take me seriously should they need an exam. It would be difficult to concentrate if they pictured me sitting across from them not in my austere uniform, but my dancing bear pajamas.

She accepted my invitation and kind of stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, twisting her fingers in a nervous manner. "Really, I am not disturbing you am I?" She asked worried. "I know you are off duty and I should come and see you during our shift, but I couldn't think of a way to get off the bridge without anyone knowing."

I pulled out my desk chair for her to sit in and replied, "I understand and believe me, I do not mind. There really is no such thing as office hours for me, but I wouldn't have it any other way. You are always welcome here."

She sat with a smile and said, "So you are nothing like McCoy despite hanging around him so much. He would yell at me if I bothered him now."

"No, my personality was formed well before we met and it is unlikely that it will change no matter how long I work with him." I sighed sitting on the bed across from her. "He may come off as cranky, but believe me he would be irate if you didn't tell him you were sick right away. Just ask the Captain how well avoiding him works out in the end." I leaned back casually, propping myself up with my arms extended behind me. "So, what brings you in?" As if I didn't already know, but in this game you never show your cards.

"I know that while we are on leave I talked with you, but now that we are all back on duty, is there anyway anyone could find out what we talk about?" She was so apprehensive and guarded. Trust did not come easy for her.

"Here is how it works, Uhura," I explained, "Any time you talk to me it is absolutely confidential and I tell no one about anything you say. There are only two exceptions: if it has some kind of medical implication I have to tell McCoy and if it somehow impairs your ability to carry out your duties I tell the Captain, but it stops with them. Even then, the details I provide would be on a strict need-to-know basis. They are not at liberty to discuss anything I tell them with anyone else without your permission."

She nodded slowly before asking, "But what if Jim leaves Spock in charge? Do you have to tell him if he is the acting Captain?"

I gave her a small smile. "Is this about Spock?" I asked quietly.

She shifted in her chair and looked at the floor. She shook her head for what seemed minutes before she muttered, "I didn't want it to happen that way."

"What happened?" I asked softly.

She sighed heavily. "Last night after dinner I went back to my quarters and someone came to my door. I thought it would be Spock because he usually comes by to say goodnight, but it was Scotty. He brought some of his Scotch he smuggled onboard and we had a drink. And then two. And then I don't know how many. We were laughing and having a good time, and then it was so strange, but we just kissed each other. I don't know what the hell I was thinking, I mean Scotty and I have been spending more time together, but it wasn't like that." She took a deep breath and seemed to hold it. "I was so shocked, I didn't hear the door. Spock must have overridden the code, it really isn't unusual that I am sometimes in the shower when he stops by and he has always just let himself in. The look on his face…oh God!" She moaned drooping her head in her hands.

I actually winced. How do you explain something like that away? "Have you talked to him since?" I ventured.

"I tried, but he just completely shut himself off from me. Working so close with him was really hard today. We couldn't even look at each other. What would I say? 'It's not what it looked like?' He knew. I think he always suspected. I am just not as good at hiding as he is. And I thought it was really going to work." She sounded so sad.

"You thought what would work?" I questioned.

"When you, Bones and Chekov went to Chicago, I convinced Spock to go to Death Valley." I raised my eyebrows. "It is the closest thing on Earth to what Vulcan was like. I thought it would be nice to approximate home for him." She shrugged. "Anyway, I talked to him like you said and told him that I needed him to try harder. I felt like I was the one doing all of the work and I wasn't asking for huge displays of affection, but I just needed a little more. I thought he would argue and rationalize, but he didn't. I knew it would be hard for him, but he said he would try if it made me happy. You know what he did our last day there?" Her eyes welled with tears and they spilled onto her cheeks. "He picked a Bluebonnet for me. You should have seen him, he was so uncomfortable standing there staring at the ground while holding out the tiny flower to me. It was the most precious thing ever. And now this…" Her tears flowed in a steady stream and dripped into a pool on her lap.

I reached forward and placed my hand on her knee and she sobbed harder. I just let her cry while I thought of something helpful to say, but nothing came to mind. She obviously felt horrible for what seemed like an accident. Sometimes it was my job to just listen and sometimes I had to be the voice of reason who could see the forest for the trees. I just needed to know where she stood. "Uhura," I said rubbing her knee, "if you could snap your fingers and make this all go away, where did you see your relationship with Spock going?"

She calmed herself and wiped her face before turning her large brown eyes to me. "Honestly," she replied in a low voice, "I don't know. He said he would try and I believe him, but in the end, I am not sure that he would have been able to give as much as I needed. I feel so selfish for saying that, but that is how I feel."

"That doesn't sound selfish." I encouraged. "Just because Spock may not have been able to fulfill all of your needs doesn't make him a bad person, and knowing yourself and your desires as well as his limitations does not make you selfish. The both of you are good people who deserve to find happiness, ultimately it just won't be with each other."

"I know." She sniffed. "It isn't really me I am worried about. I will get through and move on, but what about him? He is probably so crushed. He took a chance on me and I let him down."

"No doubt he was hurt," I admitted not wanting to tell her what I saw earlier, "but he will survive. He is not made of glass nor is he fragile. He will recover and yes he will be smarting for awhile, but he had a deep and rich experience that he will not forget." I patted her leg and smiled. "I am not minimizing your importance to him, but the man did lose his entire planet. If he was able to cope with that, he will live through this. He is very resilient."

She laughed. "Yeah, I guess this is small potatoes compared to that." She smiled softly and added, "I just wish I could tell him my side of the story so maybe it wouldn't hurt so much."

"Well, right now just seeing you will be painful. I know that your heart is in the right place, Uhura, but if you really want to help him the best thing you can do is keep your distance and let him have time to heal before you approach him. Maybe sometime in the future you will be able to tell him the truth when he can handle it, and who knows? The two of you may be able to make it a private joke, but for now what would help him most is if you kept your interactions at a minimum and professional in nature." I advised.

"He would probably find the formality comforting." She agreed.

I nodded just as my door rang again. I excused myself and answered it to see the devil at my doorstep. He seemed momentarily startled by my pajamas. "Are you available, Dr. Collins?" Spock asked standing at attention. He looked past me and spotted Uhura and I swore he went pale.

"I was just leaving." She said demurely as she stood up. He stepped aside slightly to let her pass and looked at the floor. "Goodnight, Commander." She said pausing in front of him. He pursed his lips, but otherwise did not respond. She gave a slight sigh before looking to me. "Goodnight, Dr. Collins."

"Goodnight, Uhura." I replied waving at her as she walked quickly down the hall with her head hung. Her shoulders shook slightly as she tied to hold back a new wave of tears until she got far enough away from Spock. I gestured for him to enter and watched as he stood stiffly in the center of the room just as Uhura did.

_Round 2. Let's get it on!_


	11. Chapter 11 He Said

**Chapter 11- He Said**

He sat tensely in the chair only after I had directed him to do so. He looked straight ahead with his hands resting flat on his thighs, but his breathing was steady and light. I resumed my position in front of him trying to mimic his posture as much as my sore muscles would allow and opened by saying, "I am glad you came. I knew you would since you gave me your word, but I guess I wasn't expecting you so soon."

It was sometimes eerie the way he kept absolutely still and moved only his eyes like some predator waiting to strike. I had been told he was a pacifist, but then again I remembered what Jim told me about him looking into the eyes of a god that was about to destroy you and I got a hint of that. If he unnerved me now when he was only irritated, I could only imagine what it would be like to see him angry. "I saw no advantage to delaying the inevitable." He answered coolly. "Should I begin by telling you about my mother?"

I searched his face for any subtle clue that he was joking, but he was absolutely carved out of green tinted marble. Rather than take a chance, I cautiously said, "If that is where you would like to begin."

"On the contrary, Doctor." He lilted. "I have done research on the education you would have received during your training and I discovered it to be most congruent with the medical model based in biology rather than Freud's psychodynamic orientation. As such, my childhood and family dynamics would be a waste of time to you."

"Well done, you did your homework." I complimented. "However, just because I am more of a biologist doesn't mean I didn't learn or value other approaches. As much as I would love for it to be true, humans cannot be reduced to neurochemistry and interconnected cortex tissues. If that were the case, McCoy could just give you a shot in the neck and make it all go away but he can't. He can dull your senses to the core so you don't care about what you are experiencing, but when the drugs wear off you will be back at square one. Unfortunately humans are much more complex than medicine alone can cure or even fully explain. So if you want to tell me about your family, I don't consider it a waste of my time because in the end what is important to you is important to me."

He sat motionless, not even blinking for the longest time. "But I am not fully human, Doctor." He quietly reminded.

"No, you are not." I agreed. "But at least half of you is, and that is the part that I can see so clearly. Spock, I am not going to sit here and pretend like I fully understand you because I don't. I am at a disadvantage because I do not know what being a Vulcan looks like, I can only assume Vulcan is the part of you that I can't recognize as human. Even so, if what you told me about our species being related is true, we can't be all that dissimilar. As much as your culture valued logic, I am betting the farm that like humans, they also were too complex to be reduced to biology alone. It isn't my goal to make you more human or to devalue your Vulcan heritage as being somehow abnormal. I have a great deal of respect for you, and as such I accept you for who you are and I care about your well being. I can't speak to your Vulcan side, but your human side needs help. Now what went on earlier today?" I was already holding two aces, I just needed him to give up the last two…

"You are correct that Vulcans and humans are similarly complex creatures, but how is it you can so easily determine which parts of my psyche are human and which are Vulcan?" He asked.

"I can't." I sighed. "At least I can't explain it any better than by saying that there are times when you are in a good mood or when you are sad that I can feel it as strongly as though it were my own emotion. If you want a biological answer, my mirror neurons are reflecting your mood state which in turn activate the corresponding emotional centers in my limbic system."

"Fascinating." He said simply.

"The system isn't foolproof." I lamented. "There are times, perhaps when you are more strongly Vulcan, that I feel nothing." I quickly smiled. "Now that I have told you how to cheat the system, you owe me."

He looked astonished that I would be so blunt, but I knew that he would evade the question as long as he could if I didn't keep him on track. His eyes fell as well as his voice. "I am certain you are aware of the pairing between the Ensign and I." He couldn't even bring himself to say her name, how very human. "I discovered her sharing an intimate moment with Mr. Scott last night when I visited her quarters as I most often do."

"What happened?" I asked. I didn't bother using soft tones with him, I just didn't think that kind of thing would work on him.

"I can only assume she must have informed you of this. I see no purpose in reiterating information you already possess." His voice was strained and his left eye twitched again.

"I want to hear it from you." I stated flatly so he would know there was no negotiating to be done.

"Doctor, I…" He looked to me in yet another attempt to dodge the question. I raised my eyebrows, but said nothing. There was no way he was begging off this time. "Very well." He surrendered. "I went to her quarters to wish her a good rest and when I approached the door, I heard her and another person laughing. I hailed her door, but she did not answer. Believing she had visitors and did not want to be disturbed, I had decided to continue on to my quarters. But as I turned to depart, I heard something." He stopped abruptly and his eyes began to stir.

"What did you hear, Spock?" I prompted.

He took a deep breath to compose himself. "It was on the order of a muffled cry that humans make when they are frightened. Although I had no direct evidence, I became suspicious that she was being harmed. It sounded like the Ensign and I went back to the door and hailed it one last time before manually overriding the security code. I entered the room prepared to neutralize the potential threat, but she was in no danger. She appeared to be quite satisfied with her circumstances in fact. She was engaged in the human custom of pressing mouths together with Mr. Scott."

"Kissing." I corrected. "And it made you angry?" I knew it would be hard to get any feeling statements from him, but anger was one of the most recognizable and base emotions. I had to try.

"No." He said blankly.

"Come on, Spock!" I said rolling my eyes. "You witnessed the woman you cared for kissing another man and you want me to believe that you just shrugged your shoulders and walked out of the room?!"

"In that moment, Doctor, I was unable to feel anything without the need to control my emotions in the manner in which I was trained." He replied with a slight sense of awe. "It was only in the time following that I found it difficult."

"And what did you experience during that time?" I asked.

_This is like trying to get blood out of a turnip._

"I was angry and disappointed." He answered stoically.

I was shocked. Did he just put names to and admit _feelings_? Ever the professional, I kept my poker face straight and asked, "Did you feel betrayed, question why you weren't good enough for her?"

He shook his head. "I always knew that our pairing was incongruent based on the ways in which humans are accustomed to relating to their mates. Vulcans do not openly show affection or express amorous sentiments and I found it difficult to do so. Still, I attempted to comply in order to honor her wishes as often as my human side would allow, but I knew it was not sufficient. So in that respect I did not expect the association to continue. However, the manner in which she chose to end the pairing was not honorable even by human standards and I could not understand why she would choose that option rather than just ask me to no longer show interest in her. It did not seem to fit with her previous patterns of behavior."

"So what can you make of that?" I challenged. "If it didn't seem like something she would do, why else could it have happened?"

"Of that I am uncertain." He replied.

"Perhaps here is where humans and Vulcans differ." I suggested. "Vulcans seem to be all about total control, in thought and deed. Humans have the desire to be perfect, but sometimes we do things that we don't mean to. We are not always 100% in control and we end up doing things that we regret."

"Yes, I have observed this phenomenon several times with Dr. McCoy and the Captain when they have ingested too much alcohol." He said dryly.

I smiled. "Exactly. Perhaps the same force was at work. Either she did it on purpose to hurt you or she didn't. Which is more likely?"

"I do not have enough prior evidence to suggest her actions were malicious, but the result was the same." He mused.

"I am not excusing her actions." I defended. "But you have to look at the end result and ask yourself how happy you would have been in a relationship that was unsatisfactory. It was a terrible way for you to find out, but now you are free of your obligation to her. Hopefully you will find someone who is closer to your comfort zone so you can be who you are and not what others want you to become."

"A logical conclusion." He said with a nod as he stood up. "Am I cleared to resume my duties, Doctor?"

"That depends," I shrugged. "Do you think you work effectively with her so nearby?"

He snapped to attention and regained his authoritative voice. "That is without question, Doctor."

"Ok then." I agreed walking with him to the door. "I will make a note of it in your file tomorrow." I said jokingly.

"How prestigious that I be the first of many." He stated.

"Wait," I said as he walked out the door, "what do you mean?"

He seemed somewhat surprised. "The Captain neglected to inform you? He wanted an updated psychological evaluation for every crew member since the service has been less than complete due to Dr. McCoy's primary duties as CMO."

My jaw dropped. "He did indeed neglect to tell me that. How many crew members are there?" I asked a little apprehensively.

"At the moment there are 82 active enlisted and an additional 23 reserve." He answered.

"Good to know." I said banging my head on the doorframe. "I suppose my day should start bright and early tomorrow."

"It is already late, Doctor. You should rest before beginning your task. The Captain wanted the profiles completed before we reach the next starbase in 49 hours." He seemed dead serious and I almost laughed.

"Yeah, well you know what they say. He can want in one hand…" I started. Spock waited patiently for me to finish. "Ok, you obviously don't know what they say." I grumbled. "Goodnight, Spock."

He nodded. "Rest well, Doctor."

_Yeah, like that was going to be possible._


	12. Chapter 12 When it Rains it Pours

**A/N: I am finally back from my conference…zzzzz. Updates should be regular again & thanks to all who have sent in comments or added me to your favorites! It is nice hearing from all of you, it keeps me going when I don't feel like it. Cheers!**

**Chapter 12- When it Rains it Pours**

My head hurt and I was exhausted. I had spent the last 27 hours seeing one face after another and doing the most cursory of evaluations I could to establish a minimal level of sanity until it all blurred together. So many people and too much drama, but I managed to achieve the impossible by seeing almost everyone on the ship for Jim's Bataan death march of record keeping. I looked at the huge pile of files on my desk and wanted to set it all on fire to save myself the work of entering it all in the computer, which would take several more hours.

"This is fucking inhumane." McCoy mumbled to his equally cluttered desk with his head in his hands. Apparently, Jim's edict required updated physicals for the entire crew as well and McCoy almost went nuclear when he found out. There were many piercing glares seasoned with a flood of various profanities, but in the end he had no choice but to do complete workups on 104 people just as I did.

Unfortunately the crew members saw him first and then me in a steady stream of humanity and they were most often in a foul mood when they got to me because of him. I heard so many complaints about McCoy I started the interviews with, "I know McCoy is a jerk. Can we just get on with this?" I had never seen so much sustained rage in a person, his stamina was amazing. The poor individuals who came first were abused because he was angry at Jim. The middle group got it because he had become bored with the routine. The last of them were treated roughly because he was exhausted.

No one was spared. He told Chekov to go cry to his mommy if he couldn't handle the hypo. Sulu kept rubbing his arm vigorously and squinting in pain through most of his interview with me. He gave Uhura a little shove in my direction when she didn't get off his table fast enough for the next person. When Scotty asked him to go easy on the hypo, he was told to take it like a man or he would get it in the ass so he couldn't sit for a week. Even Spock struggled to maintain his placid expression. His eye twitched several times when he got his shot, but he somehow managed to hold it together otherwise.

Only once during the parade did I see McCoy smile, and that was when it was Jim's turn. There was no rational way he could order a shipwide medical evaluation and exclude himself. Jim gave a lopsided smile and approached with his hands up in an effort to placate the man who was salivating at the prospect of working him over. He had made the additional mistake of waiting until the very end so McCoy had plenty of time to stew; he smiled like the Cheshire cat and gently patted the table for Jim to sit. The last thing I saw was McCoy pulling the privacy curtain closed with a malicious smirk.

It was difficult to conduct Spock's interview with Jim's constant interruptions of gasps, growling, and the occasional, "Fuck! Go easy, Bones!" It was a good thing that I had talked to Spock the night before, so his sitting there was really a show for the other crew members least they think he was receiving special treatment. I took the opportunity to glean the purpose of the hysterical need to get this all done in a short time span: at the Starbase some of the Starfleet brass was going to hitch a ride on the Enterprise and that meant everything would be scrutinized, from the efficiency of the machinery in the engine room to the accuracy of medical records.

From what Spock told me we were far from Jim's only victims; both he and Scotty had been up almost as long as McCoy and I assessing the maintenance schedules and cleaning stray bits of computer code from the ship's systems. In spite of Jim's incredible ability in his job to pull off the improbable, it seemed impossible for him to enforce administration tasks on board. Everything had lapsed into neglect, at least on paper. But to the brass, a paper trail was everything so we were all trying our damndest to build a yellow brick road for them before they got on board.

"You know what we should do?" McCoy sighed, "You, Scotty, and me should all sneak into that arrogant prick's room with hypos and take turns shooting him up until he cries like a baby. I can fill a bunch of vials with water so he wouldn't even get anything but the pain. Hell, even the pointy eared bastard can join in. I just know that somewhere deep in the back of his Vulcan skull he would love a little taste of revenge. Fuck! Could you image how pissed he must be to be forced to stare at a computer screen and read billions of strings of code for hours on end? I am surprised he didn't go blind or bat shit insane. I mean Christ, even Vulcans have a breaking point." He paused and looked over at me with red rimmed eyes. "Is he insane?"

"I don't think so." I answered starting on the files. The notes were certainly not going to enter themselves. "But you know what they say about people who live in glass houses. There are only four of so of us that are pissed off at Jim. The entire ship is probably having a group meeting right now to plot their revenge against you including Spock and Scotty."

McCoy took my cue and started on his pile. "Fuck 'em. Any section 8's?" He casually asked entering the information into his screen.

"You mean truly insane people?" I clarified. McCoy grunted once and I took that as a yes. "Only one and he is one of yours." I dug though the pile to find the file while McCoy turned to me now fully awake. "Cadet Thom Meyers." I announced reading through my notes. It was sad, I had seen so many people that all I could remember was that he was crazy but couldn't recall exactly how.

"Seriously?" McCoy prompted with a knit brow. "What's wrong with him?"

"It looks like he is having trouble adjusting to life on a starship and he is especially struggling with his placement in your medical service." I told him tossing the file back on the pile.

"Wouldn't disagree with the last part. His grades in Starfleet were great, but he acts like he has never spent a day in medicine. The kid constantly forgets shit and doesn't do half of what I tell him. I shit you not, you did a better job putting in sutures than he can and you had no formal training. It scares the daylights out of me to think that he wants to actually operate on people. I haven't let him see patients on his own without me there just so he won't fuck up and accidently kill someone who just came in for a Band-Aid." He grumbled. "I admit that he sucks at medicine, but is he really bad enough to be placed on leave?"

"I haven't decided yet." I admitted. "I am leaning in that direction rather than suggesting a discharge, but he is perilously close to psychosis. He tells me he thinks that he is always being watched, even when he is off duty, and he sometimes hears voices telling him he is an awful person and everyone hates him."

"Fuck!" McCoy breathed. "He really is crazy. Maybe I should put him on a psychotropic."

"Maybe." I conceded. "But I have to talk to him a little more to determine the exact nature of all of this. He may be showing signs of schizophrenia or he may have just been speaking in metaphors, I didn't have enough time with him to figure it out. God, it was like speed dating." I sighed gesturing to the pile of notes. "I am not sure I can say with 100% certainty that anyone on this ship is truly healthy."

"I know what you mean." He agreed. "All I was looking for was a warm body and a pulse. That reminds me, you didn't get a physical."

"And you didn't get a psych eval." I retorted.

"Blink once." He instructed with a smile. I did as he requested and he shrugged. "Conscious and responds to commands, which implies a heartbeat and breathing. Done."

"Do you have fantasies about having sex with your mother?" I asked.

"All the time." He droned.

"Healthy family attachment if a little Oedipal in nature, but overall well adjusted and fit for duty." I nodded. He chuckled, but his mood took a turn directly south when Jim poked his head into the office.

"Dr. Collins." Jim greeted before turning to McCoy with a lower voice. "Bones."

"What the fuck do you want, Jim?" McCoy asked cutting to the chase.

"Bones, I am sorry about all this, Ok? I just found out myself that we were going to escort the admiral and his buddies and I am not happy about having them shove their noses up everyone's ass over the next few days either. I am even less happy about what I have to tell you." His voice broke off and McCoy slumped in his chair as though Jim had hit him in the forehead with a baseball bat. He simply couldn't take much more. "We are going to have a dinner on board tomorrow night, dress uniforms and rods firmly inserted up the ass." Jim instructed.

"Shit." McCoy sighed rubbing his face. "I hate formal dinners. No possibility of alcohol until the very end. I have to show up drunk or else I will end up stabbing one of the pricks with my butter knife if I have to listen to one more goddamn boring story with a smile plastered on my fucking face as if it were the most interesting thing I have ever heard."

"It sucks for everyone, Bones." Jim laughed. "The uniforms are itchy and hot and Scotty seems to have monopolized the tactic of excusing himself from the table several times so he can hide out in the bathroom and drink from the bottle of booze he had hidden somewhere beforehand."

"Bastard." McCoy spat. "Why didn't we think of that first? Spock seems to be the only one that can handle it. I don't know how in the hell he sits there and listens to all that bullshit without giving them all a nerve pinch just to shut them the hell up."

Jim laughed until his face turned pink. "You wanna know how he does it?" He gasped. "This is priceless! He told me he actually meditates during the dinners. He figured out that all he has to do is blink every so often and they will just keep talking. He is barely even conscious during the whole thing! How fucking awesome is that?"

"Sneaky motherfucker!" McCoy exclaimed. "And because he is a Vulcan, no one notices his expression doesn't change. I actually envy him. Goddamn!"

I laughed and shook my head. "I am telling you guys, he is more crafty than you realize or give him credit for."

"I am starting to figure that out." Jim smiled. "By the way, don't wear that uniform when you go. Have Uhura help you pick something from the replicator." He instructed gesturing to my blue modified shirt.

"Why am I going?" I asked somewhat disappointed. "I am not in Starfleet."

"Not technically," Jim agreed, "but as far as they know you are Mrs. McCoy and I bet they will be dying to meet the woman who was brave enough to take on that suicide mission. Besides, it is customary for officers to bring their significant others."

I sighed and hung my head while McCoy laughed. "At least I will have someone to talk to." He smiled. "You know, technical shit that they can't follow so maybe they will leave me the hell alone."

"Which brings up a kind of sticky situation." Jim sighed. "Collins, they don't know about you being from the past. So you and Bones will have to get your story straight about how you met and all that because that is one headache I don't need and won't be able to explain."

"I can handle it." McCoy shrugged. "Besides, I have seen her answer questions beautifully without really answering them, so I think we can manage."

"I can be very good at evading questions and deflecting attention." I confirmed. "If all else fails, answer the question with a question and keep them talking."

"Sounds good, but just keep in mind the situation we are all in and don't give away too much information. Which brings me to my last point." He looked down and chewed his bottom lip. McCoy and I glanced at each other and it seemed we were both uncomfortable with his hesitation. "We only have four staterooms and there will be five guests. I can't believe this is even happening, but Collins, you will have to give up your room and for the sake of appearances…"

He didn't need to finish for me to go into panic mode. "Fuck no Jim!" McCoy howled. "I can take a joke, but this shit is real! You can't in your right mind expect us to…to…" he looked in my direction with desperation, "we just can't, Jim. It ain't right. The end." He waved his hands and scowled. If I weren't so horrified at the prospect of spending the night in McCoy's room, I would have laughed at how much his southern accent came out.

"I will make it up to you, I swear." Jim promised. "I never in a million years would have thought this would happen, but we just have to get through this." McCoy just shook his head with fire in his eyes. He looked at me and he did seem truly sorry to have put us in such a situation. "I'm sorry, Collins. But I can tell you that I shared a room with him for three years, he really isn't that bad. Snores a little, but I just kicked him and he stopped." He was trying to make a joke, but McCoy just glared at him. "Christ, Bones! I said I would make it up to you!" He pleaded.

"Jim," McCoy said in an eerily detached voice, "I can't think of one goddamn thing that you could possibly do for me to make up for this. Nothing in this universe could repay the amount of infinite fucking patience I have shown you at every turn in the last day and a half just to have you turn around and kick me in the balls time and again."

Jim hung his head and sighed. When he spoke, his voice was despondent. "I know I have really fucked up this time, Bones. And maybe you are right, maybe there isn't anything I can do to make it all up to you, but I have pulled off the impossible before. Just give me a chance to do my damndest to try for you before you write me off, ok?"

His blue eyes were large and sad. I was absolutely struck by his raw sincerity as though McCoy were his only true friend in the universe in that moment. This was a different man from the brash and reckless man who I normally knew as Jim. This was someone else entirely. The air was permeated with remorse, thick and heavy. McCoy's eyes softened slightly as he took in Jim's defeated posture. Without a word, he nodded once tightly before returning to his files. Jim's mouth tweaked upwards into a small smirk and his eyes brightened, but he thought it best to leave McCoy alone and he took his leave.

I too returned to my files, admiring McCoy for his grace and ability to forgive the man who had clearly wronged him. I knew the two were friends, but it wasn't until that moment that I realized how deep the bond was between the two even if it was unspoken. As I entered the data, I tried to quell the sense of dread that washed over me about my pending arrangements. I simply couldn't do this….


	13. Chapter 13 The Doctors McCoy

**Chapter 13- The Doctors McCoy**

Uhura and I spent hours trying to decide what to wear. This fell firmly into the girly category that I despised. I had always been a low maintenance kind of person that preferred substance over flash. As such, I hated overly dressy or sparkly styles that make you look like you had some serious compensation issues. I preferred simple and understated, but it seemed that the women that would be attending the dinner liked to make it a fashion competition and in the end I was forced into a red dress.

I hated wearing dresses. Simply hated it. I felt that it put all of the wrong parts of you on display and served to cheapen your perceived intellect by at least 20 points. Men couldn't take you seriously when they seemed to be conversing with your breasts. But it wasn't just the dress, it was the torture devices called heels that you had to wear with it. I was not a graceful person and I was certain I would end up with a broken ankle by the night's end. I was not accustomed to wearing them and I could count the number of times I had on one hand. I felt ridiculous in the getup although Uhura seemed pleased.

She helped me pack what scant few belongings I had and carry them to McCoy's quarters. It was sad, my entire life fit into one small box. I tripped a few times on the way, but I recovered each time before I fell down, cursing under my breath at the straps that dug into my feet and felt like barbed wire. "You'll be fine." Uhura encouraged as we reached his door. "You two have fun!" Her eyes danced with mischievousness as she smiled.

"It isn't like that!" I hissed quietly as though McCoy were listening on the other side. "It is bad enough as it is, don't make it any harder." I pleaded. She widened her smile as though she were innocent and kept walking down the hall. She was enjoying every minute of it and I found her lack of sympathy disheartening.

I stepped up close to his door to activate the chime and swallowed the panic that made my heart race. I felt like I was in high school passing a note to the boy in the back of the class. Do you like me Y or N?

_This is ridiculous. You are both adults and this is nothing more than a meaningless requirement. It isn't some kind of date, it is just a formal function that neither of you really wants to go to…_

The door slid open and we both looked at each other in shock. I was absolutely taken back by how different he looked from his everyday blue uniform and slightly messy hair. His dress uniform was also blue, but much more decorative and his hair was neatly styled. He was, dare I admit it, incredibly handsome. His eyes were wide as he looked me over and for the first time I took note of the unusual color of them. They were not like anything I had seen before, not hazel, not quite green…something more like olive but that didn't seem to do them justice either.

He cleared his throat and broke the spell that had been cast between us, resuming his usual scowl. "You look very nice." He mumbled gesturing for me to come in. "You can put your things down anywhere." His room was surprisingly immaculate save the desk which looked almost exactly like the one on deck 5- piled high with files. Apparently, he never really stopped working. He approached the desk and removed a bottle and two glasses from a drawer. "Whiskey?" He offered pouring himself a glass.

"No thanks." I declined. "I can barely walk in these things as it is, being drunk won't help." I said pointing at my shoes.

He looked them over thoughtfully as he downed his first glass in an almost continuous gulp. "Believe me," he said again reaching into the drawer to remove another bottle, "you will want to have a little in you to get through this thing. I take it whiskey isn't your style. How about this?" He turned the bottle to show me the label and I chuckled. Bailey's. "That's the spirit." He smiled as he poured some for me. I sat on the edge of his bed to take the pressure off my sore feet and he sat next to me to put his boots on.

"Well, Mr. McCoy. You look dashing." I teased while sipping my drink.

He glanced at me and smiled. "Only when I have to, darling." He drawled. I smiled at his emphasized accent. "Are you ready to be bored out of your skull, dear?" He asked standing up and extending his hand to me.

I quickly drank the rest of my beverage and took his hand to stand up. "I am ready for a battle of the wits in which I can assure you I have no plans on losing." I held on to his arm because suddenly I felt dizzy from the alcohol and my balance wasn't that great to begin with.

He graciously pretended not to notice and allowed me to hang on him while we walked to dinner. "Then this may not be so bad after all. I would love nothing more than to watch you carve up the arrogant blowhards without them even knowing it." He mockingly made a quick bow and added, "Ninja queen."

I laughed as we exited the room to see a welcoming committee comprised of Chekov, Sulu, and Uhura in the hall. They began to cheer and cat call while Pavel took a picture of us. We both turned red, but for very different reasons- I was terribly embarrassed and he was very angry. "Goddamn it!" He bellowed. "Don't you kids have anything better to do than stalk us? Isn't it past your bedtimes?"

The trio continued to laugh and Sulu said, "Man, there are times when it pays not to be an officer in Starfleet, but you two make a great couple!"

I took it gracefully, knowing they were just teasing in a good natured way, but McCoy wasn't so thrilled. "Take another picture, Ensign." He growled at Pavel. "I will shove that camera so far up your ass you will be puking polaroids." Chekov slowly lowered his camera, but smiled just the same.

Dinner wasn't so bad from my perspective. For the most part, I let McCoy come up with a backstory on how we met and tried not to laugh at how well he was playing it off even though he was lying like a dog. We met while he was in med school. I attended a nearby university where I studied psychology and we both used the same lab for experiments. We were just friends then and we lost touch after graduation, but lo and behold! We met again when the Enterprise encountered a Romulan ship in the neutral zone and I was on board after being captured from a scientific vessel! It really was a small universe after all.

Even Jim and Spock were paying close attention. Jim covered his mouth with his clasped hands, but I could tell he was smiling while Spock sat immobile, no doubt disapproving of such a spectacle of deceit. Scotty was, as predicted, hiding in the bathroom for long stretches of time. For the duration of the dinner, I artfully dodged personal questions either outright or by giving elaborate yet vague answers. But the others had not been exaggerating, the brass loved nothing more than to talk about themselves as though they were the center of the universe, so it was incredibly easy to pass the time by feigning interest and asking them to elaborate on whatever detail of minutiae they were stuck on at the moment.

By the end of the dinner, McCoy sat slouched in his chair, poking listlessly at his desert and Spock had already endured nearly an hour of the admiral's wife's prattling about her champion dogs that she bred and flew all over the star system showing in competitions. To anyone that knew him, it was clear that he had checked out long ago by his unfocused eyes but as long as he kept blinking, she kept talking.

It seemed as though there would be no end to the torture until I decided to put a stop to it. "Captain Kirk," I called down the table. He blinked as though he didn't recognize it as his name. "I apologize, but I am not feeling well. May Dr. McCoy and I be excused?"

He glanced at Scotty who looked betrayed, but McCoy just shrugged his shoulders and smiled- clearly laughing and pointing at him on the inside. "Yeah, sure." He reluctantly agreed. "See you tomorrow." Even Spock looked despondent, perhaps realizing that he had many hours to go and much more to learn about the intricacies of the galactic dog circuit before he could get away. I politely thanked everyone for their company as I rose from the table and sighed when the doors of the turbolift enclosed McCoy and I.

"Well done!" McCoy exclaimed. "You not only survived, but saved my ass as well. If I had to hear anything more about the rear admiral's suspicious rash I was going to leap across the table and strangle him with his napkin." He sighed and his head fell back with a thud. "I fucking hate these things."

The doors opened to deck 3, home to both McCoy and Spock. We entered his room and once again I felt uneasy. I paced in front of his desk, ignoring the searing pain that came with each step. My feet felt like the bones were broken, but I didn't dare look.

"Ok," he sighed throwing his hands up, "let's just get this over with and deal with the gorilla in the room, shall we? Neither of us are comfortable with this, but it is only for a few days and then everything will be back to normal. You can have the bed and I will sleep on the floor." He said opening the closet and removing an extra set of blankets and pillows.

"No, I will sleep on the floor." I suggested.

"Can't." He said shaking his head. "What kind of gentleman would make a lady sleep on the floor? My grandma would have my balls if she knew I did something like that. It's against the rules. But really, I don't mind." He said quietly spreading out the blankets on the floor.

"I appreciate your chivalry," I began, "but the thing is, I can't sleep in your bed. I know this is probably strange to you, but it is your intimately personal space and I just can't be in that." I smiled apologetically, but that was how I felt.

He frowned and looked at the bed. "It is where I sleep and sadly nothing else." He muttered. "Nothing really personal about being comatose."

I sighed and hung my head. I didn't want to argue with him anymore. "I think maybe it would be better if I just go somewhere else." I mumbled.

He kneeled on his makeshift bed and looked up at me intensely. "You have nowhere else to go, or were you planning on sleeping in a Jeffery tube?" His face softened a little. "Look, I can crash with Jim and you can have the whole place to yourself if it would make you feel better." I paced shaking my head. I didn't want to be alone in his room, it somehow seemed worse. After a minute or so, I stopped in my tracks when he suspiciously asked, "Do I somehow remind you of him? Is that why this is so difficult?"

I felt like he had sucker punched me in the gut. "Who are you talking about?" I asked in a shaky voice. It seemed like all of the air had been sucked out of the room.

"Your husband." He said softly. "Don't think I haven't noticed that you don't look at me very often. Do I look like him or something?" He wasn't being sarcastic for once.

I felt sick, but he deserved an answer. "Vaguely." I whispered. I wasn't angry with him for pointing it out, I was disappointed that I didn't figure it out for myself before then. There had always been something slightly unsettling about McCoy and I had always chalked it up to his temper, but truthfully he freaked me out because he reminded me of a ghost I once knew.

"Do you still love him?" He asked quietly.

I fought hard not to cry. I never cried in front of anyone ever in my life and I wasn't going to start now. "A part of me always will." I admitted. "It ended so strangely that I am not sure I will ever feel completely settled. You go along thinking that everything is fine and your happiness will last the rest of your life and then you get blindsided. Suddenly the world doesn't look the same and you can't figure out what went wrong. All you can do is try to pick up the pieces and go on, but you know deep down that you will never be whole again."

He nodded deep in thought. "I think I know exactly what you mean." He sighed. "I was married once and I thought we would have a storybook life. I was working hard and she seemed happy enough to spend my money on things we didn't need, but I never said anything to her if it made her happy. She was always bitching at me for some damn thing or another, but she was always that way. Then one day out of nowhere I was served with divorce papers at the hospital along with a note that my personal items had been packed up and placed in storage. I couldn't go home again. She took the whole damn planet in the divorce and left me with just my clothes. I even left those behind and joined Starfleet after I had too much to drink to know what I was getting into." He smirked. "It seems to be a problem I have. Anyway, that's where I met Jim and the rest they say is history. But I know how it feels to have your heart ripped out of your chest when all you can do is stand there bleeding and looking at the gaping hole wondering how the hell it all happened in the first place."

I sat next to him on the floor and smiled. "Does the bleeding ever stop?" I asked.

"It has been almost six years. It is amazing how you can bleed for all that time and not die, but I will keep you posted." He said quietly.


	14. Chapter 14 Misery Business

**Chapter 14- Misery Business **

I showered and changed into my dancing bear pajamas, which McCoy had a lengthy laugh at. "Ok," I sniggered pouring the remaining whiskey into his glass, "so as long as you are in confessional mode, mind telling me why you were such a dick to me when I first came?"

McCoy jerked his head in my direction and smirked. "Whadda mean?" He asked in a mock hurt voice. "I saved your goddamn life! Did you want a foot massage to go with that?"

"That you did." I conceded. "But after that, you were so mean! 'Put food in your mouth and chew?' What kind of medical advice was that?" I asked laughing. "Damn, man! I had just been unthawed from forever ago and you expected me to just fall in with no problems? I didn't know how the ship worked! You could have shown a little more compassion."

He pointed at me and shook his head. "That warm fuzzy shit is your job. Why do you think I was so fucking fast to get you to work? I sure as hell am no good at that. I fix things that don't talk back and that's the way I like it. Nerves and muscles don't give you shit about the way you put them back together. All of the other whining stuff is an unfortunate side effect of consciousness as far as I'm concerned."

"Not entirely true." I challenged taking a hit from my bottle of Bailey's. "I have seen you show mercy before. You are capable of being compassionate, you just choose not to. I know, it is more comfortable that way. My job would be so much easier if I didn't have to listen to the painful details of people's lives. There is so much evil out there that it is amazing anyone can keep their head on straight. But I know you can be nicer. You were nice to me once." I smiled lazily.

"Once?" He asked returning the smile.

"Yeah. I remember it. It was right after I saw the Romulan, remember? You were nice to me then, so why not before?" I queried.

His smile faded and his eyes grew dark. His voice was edgy and hesitant. "Wanna know why?" He growled. "I didn't think you were going to make it. There. I said it. When I found out you weren't eating, I thought there was some permanent damage in your brain and not eating leads to death, you know. I had fixed everything that I could, and I thought you were still going to die. I tend to take things like that personally, it looks bad for a surgeon. But more than that, there was so much fucking pressure from Starfleet to keep you alive I thought I would lose my goddamn license if you didn't make it." He drew his knees up and hung his head with a sigh. "That's why I didn't have much to do with you. I was looking at a dead woman who hadn't laid down yet and a career that was even more dead."

"I can understand that." I sympathized. "I haven't lost anyone yet, but if I ever do I would probably feel the same."

He looked up at me in surprise. "So you don't think I was being a selfish bastard?"

"I think you could have handled it differently, but that is a lot of stress to deal with. Your entire career hinged on the actions of another over which you had no control. That sucks." I chuckled.

"Sure as hell did." He smiled, "But you made it more or less intact and I still have my license. All's well that ends well and all that happy shit."

"So what do you do when you lose someone?" I asked gingerly. "It is almost inevitable in your field, you can't save everyone no matter how hard you try."

He nodded with a grimace. "Doesn't mean I can't give it my damndest. I used to get pissed off, but that was when I first started and I just knew I could save the world if only I tried hard enough." He shook his head and chuckled. "Several years and perhaps a couple hundred fatalities later, it feels more like hopelessness. I could work on someone for hours and pump gallons of blood back in, but it won't make a damn bit of difference. Maybe just knowing when you have been beat is a sign of maturity. I know at the end of the day that I did everything humanly possible, but I still spend hours going over it in my head wondering if there was anything I could have done differently. I know that in the grand scheme of things other forces beyond my control dictates when a person dies, but still it feels like an indictment on my skills as a surgeon every time I lose one."

I reached out to pat him on the shoulder. "Well, I for one am glad that you were on duty to help me. You are a fine surgeon who is very dedicated to his patients even though it is sometimes hard to tell." I sniggered again. "But I get it. You have to be fast, not necessarily fawning."

He looked at me and then his eyes fell as he smiled, broad and natural. "It is nice having you around too." He muttered almost shyly, although I knew for a fact he was not in any way shy. "I just don't know how in the hell you can listen to all of the horrible things that people go through. I would be so fucking depressed I would want to off myself."

I smiled and shook my head. "It can be intense sometimes, but you learn to find the good things in life that make you smile and remember that the world is not wholly comprised of evil and suffering." He huffed incredulously. "Come on, McCoy." I prodded. "You and I are both in the misery business. People never come to see us just to say how good they are feeling. We only see people when they are in pain and in need of help. Don't tell me it doesn't make you feel just a little bit satisfied when someone survives who would have otherwise died because of you."

He shrugged nonchalantly, but couldn't hold back a beaming smile when I playfully punched him in the arm. "I guess." He grudgingly admitted.

"Well, it is the same with me." I concluded.

"Yeah, but the shit you deal with is personal!" He protested. "I worked in a clinic during my psych rotation in med school and I couldn't believe half of the shit I was hearing! People raping and beating others, drug habits, fucked up fetishes, you name it. I had nightmares for months. I just can't listen to stories of people abusing others." He shook his head adamantly. "Give me a sucking chest wound any day."

"Well, I am not sure I would know what to do with a chest wound." I laughed. "It is all according to how you are trained. For whatever reason, stories like that do not bother me. Maybe I have just heard too many and it now takes something over the top to get my attention."

"But how do you separate the story from the person?" He asked with an intense look in his eyes. "How do you listen to someone describe raping another person and then look them in the eye when you pass them in the hall later that day? I am not so sure I could stop myself from beating the hell out of them."

"This is where the secret keeping comes in." I replied shifting uncomfortably. "You will hear things that are illegal and dangerous, but you have to keep your mouth shut and pretend that you know nothing so that others will not catch on. It is something I struggle with, but I made a promise when I went into this field to keep everything strictly confidential and I intend to keep it."

He smiled as he said, "Then you are a better fucking person than I could ever be. I just couldn't keep shit like that from getting to me." He stretched languidly and stood up. "I'm hitting the shower." He announced. "I've got to get out of this fucking monkey suit. Be back in a few."

"I am going to rifle though your things while you are gone." I called with a devilish smile.

He didn't even look back at me to reply in a bored voice, "Knock yourself out."

"You won't say that when I find your porn stash." I yelled over the sound of the shower.

He peeked around the door with a twinkle in his eye and a playful smirk. "Bottom right drawer of the desk." He smiled wide when I stared at him like a deer in the headlights. Was he being serious? What if I looked in the drawer? Hmmm….

"Security to Dr. Collins." Came a feminine voice from a speaker somewhere in his room.

I looked around for an intercom button, but couldn't find one. "Yes?" I asked hesitantly, not knowing if it was voice activated.

"You are needed in Pavel Chekov's quarters immediately." The steely voice informed.

"Uh, ok." I stammered. "What is wrong?" I asked.

"We have no details for you at this time, Doctor." She monotoned. "Please proceed to Ensign Chekov's quarters immediately. Security out."

The door to the bathroom flew open and McCoy sprinted to the closet with a towel wrapped around his waist. He rifled through the closet and dried his hair simultaneously. "Go ahead," he barked. "I will catch up with you."

I numbly nodded and ran until I reached the computer interface by the turbolift. "Computer" I commanded, "where is Ensign Pavel Chekov's quarters located?"

"What the hell are you waiting for?" McCoy asked running past me to the turbolift. I followed him and wondered how he got dressed so fast. He rummaged through a first aid bag and loaded a hypospray with something and yelled at the lift to go to deck 8. He had his war face on and it was fierce.

"Does he have any kind of history?" I asked trying to get a jump on the crisis.

"None." He growled. "God knows what's going on."

The doors opened and we ran to a door that was surrounded by several security personnel as well as Sulu, looking very worried. From inside we heard a primal growl and a loud crashing noise. "Is there anyone in there with him?" McCoy asked the bystanders.

"No, Sir." Sulu answered. "I was, but he kicked me out."

McCoy turned to one of the security officers and barked, "Don't just stand there, open the goddamn door before he tears the place apart!"

After the manual code was entered, the door slid open to reveal a room that looked like a tornado had gone through. Papers and bits of furniture lay everywhere and in the middle of it all was Pavel- wild eyed and breathing heavily.


	15. Chapter 15 In Memoriam

**Chapter 15- In Memoriam**

McCoy and I stood close together facing Chekov just inside the doorway when it slid shut with an ominous hiss. The computer screen on his wall displayed a woman who was visibly upset and speaking in what sounded like Russian. It must have been a prerecorded message because she did not appear to recognize McCoy and I.

"Easy, son." McCoy said quietly, stretching out his hand to the younger man. "Have a seat on the bed and tell me what's going on."

"I do not vant medicines, Sir." He said taking a step back from him shaking his head.

"Ok." McCoy softly drawled. "At least let me check you out."

"Aye, Sir." Chekov agreed, standing at full attention. I stood back and observed while McCoy slowly removed a tricorder from his travel bag and scanned the young man. Pavel stood straight as a board and I could tell it unnerved McCoy a little.

"Cortisol and adrenaline levels are a little high, but you seem ok, Checkov." He reported. "Are you sure you don't want anything to make you more comfortable?"

Chekov watched McCoy's every move nervously as though he expected him to quick draw the hypo and shoot him with something anyway. "No, Sir." He replied licking his lips. He was clearly hiding something, but he was not about to admit it to his superior officer.

McCoy sighed and regarded him with a squint for a moment before turning to me and in the nonverbal communication we seemed to have worked out, shot me a look that asked if I would be ok without him. I subtly indicated I would with a slow blink. He raised his eyebrows as he left that gave me the impression that he would be waiting just outside anyway. The way we naturally evolved this ability was a little strange, but it worked wonderfully when you needed to say something without actually opening your mouth.

I waited to see what Pavel would do after the door closed, but he continued to stand at attention apparently waiting for me to make the first move. I smiled inside when I realized that he regarded me with the same sense of protocol as he did McCoy although technically he outranked me even as an Ensign. "At ease, Pavel." I said with a smile. "Who is she?" I asked gesturing to the screen that had started the video over again.

He glanced at it and his eyes began to fill with sadness and fatigue. "My mother." He answered, watching her begin to cry on the screen and wave her hands in random gestures. He looked away, unable to watch anymore. His eyes began to swell with tears and he hung his head so I wouldn't see.

"What happened, Pavel?" I asked softly.

He quickly wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and fell backwards on his bed. I gave him a few moments to compose himself while I surveyed the damage to his room. "It vas Sasha." He finally choked out.

"Sasha is your brother, right?" I clarified thinking back to the walk to the dorms in San Francisco when he eagerly told me about his family.

He nodded his head and threw his arm over his eyes so I wouldn't see him cry again. I sat on the bed next to him and placed my hand on his shoulder. "What happened to him, Pavel?" I prodded gently as if I hadn't put it all together yet.

His voice cracked as he sobbed, "He vas killed in a hunting accident. My baby brother…" He reflexively curled into a fetal position and shook as he wailed into the blankets that he held in his clenched fists. The raw anguish with which he cried out made me go cold. He was completely consumed with grief and all I could do was sit beside him and gently rub his shoulder. What else could I do? There were no words I could say that could ease his pain, all of the clichés in the world wouldn't make him feel any better.

I sat with him until he was spent, sniffling and exhausted. "I am so sorry for your loss, Pavel." I said to him. I knew it was trite, but I meant every word. "It breaks my heart to see you suffer."

"Thank you, Dr. Collins." He whispered, wiping his bloodshot eyes.

"Is there any way we can establish a feed so you can talk with your family?" I asked. I knew he must have felt so far away from them and they could probably comfort him better than I could.

"No," he lamented, "Ve are too far avay. That is vhy I vas sent the wideo message." He vaguely gestured to the screen that showed his mother in a seemingly endless loop. "I can't talk to them, but I can't say goodbye to Sasha." His chest heaved, but he was all out of tears.

"Maybe not in person, but you could make your own video and send it to your family." I suggested. "I know how important it is to pay your last respects." I thought back to the day in Chicago where he and McCoy watched me say goodbye at the hospital. "We can have a funeral for him tomorrow so you can say goodbye. Do you have any pictures of him?" I asked.

He slowly peeled himself away from the wet bedclothes and retrieved a stack of photographs from his desk drawer. He sifted through them and handed one or two that he had found to me solemnly, but it wasn't long before looking at the pictures brought small stories and then smiles with detailed explanations of circumstances surrounding the images.

It was remarkable how much his brother looked like him. We probably sat there for hours while he told me about how it was he that taught Sasha how to hunt and how he often helped him with his homework. Since his father had left the family, he was sort of the father to Sasha. As such, he wanted to be just like his surrogate father telling people in the village that one day he would join Starfleet and work on the same ship as his brave brother and together they would explore the stars. In his infrequent transmissions home, Pavel would encourage him to stick with his studies and take care of his sisters, each time amazed at how fast he was growing and maturing.

By the early morning hours, I had a stack of photos and a man who was in better condition than I found him in. Still, I knew better than to take his mood for granted. "Pavel," I said getting up, "I know this probably doesn't need to be said, but I want you to promise me that if at any time the thought of hurting yourself crosses your mind, you will page me immediately."

He seemed surprised and replied, "I vould not do that, Dr. Collins. I am sad my brother is gone, but I do not see how hurting myself vill help."

"I know, Pavel." I said kneeling in front of him. "But sometimes strange thoughts can make sense when you are upset. Please promise me that you will call."

His blue eyes looked at me with conviction. "I vill, Doctor. I promise."

"Ok, then." I sighed standing up and stretching. "I will inform the Captain that you will not be on duty today. Get some rest and I will see you this afternoon." I could see the panic rising in his eyes. "Relax, Pavel. I am not banning you from the bridge, it is just one day for you to sleep in since it is already almost time for your shift. I will see you later today and we can discuss you going back to work tomorrow."

"Ok, Dr. Collins." He conceded. "Thank you."

I smiled at him and exited the room to see McCoy slumped against the wall, head tilted awkwardly and fast asleep. I squatted by him and gently shook his shoulder. He woke with a slow blink and groggily stated, "I see you finally made it." I helped him to his feet and he rubbed his neck as he groaned. "I am getting too old for this shit."

"And you wanted to sleep on the floor." I mused, picking up his medical bag for him.

"Yeah, well I am up for the day now. You can have the bed, the floor, or sleep in the bathtub for all I care." He groused, shooting a wicked glare at a person in a red uniform when they stared at my pajamas a little too long. I had long since stopped caring. I knew that I had lost all respect by now.

"Me too." I sighed. "I have a funeral to plan."

McCoy took the stack of pictures from my hand and looked them over. "Poor kid." He said quietly. "Why don't you catch a few winks and let me handle this?" He asked. I wanted to laugh, but I didn't want to offend him. "I think I know just the thing…"

"Am I going to regret this?" I asked entering the lift.

He feigned being hurt and drawled, "I wouldn't fuck something like this up. The kid has been a pain in my ass, but I do have an appropriate sense of decorum, thank you very much."

He walked me to his room and gathered a few files before turning to playfully wag his finger at me. "I will tell Jim about what happened. Get some sleep and I mean it. Don't make me bring a hypo down here." I was surprised he didn't have one stashed in a drawer somewhere. After he left, I laid down on the floor in the bed he had intended for himself and rapidly lost consciousness.

I woke up to McCoy shaking me. "Time to rise, sunshine." He taunted. "I can't believe you slept on the fucking floor." He was so cranky when he was tired. "Get up and let's get a move on. Pavel's engagement is starting in 20 minutes."

I shot out of bed and made a uniform with his replicator. "Wait," I said looking down at the pile of neatly folded clothing in the slot, "is this a formal kind of thing?"

"I'd say so." He answered holding up his dress uniform for me to see as he went to the bathroom to change. I waited for him to close the door before I reluctantly crawled out of my comfy pajamas and into my uniform. I left the blue mesh tunic on the bed, opting to wear just the black undershirt and pants. He quickly emerged, looking almost debonair. "Don't forget your shirt." He reminded as he sat on the bed to put his boots on.

"I am not wearing it." I replied. He looked up at me under his eyebrows. "I know it is probably old fashioned, but it was tradition to wear all black to a funeral to show grief and mourning." I explained.

"Sometimes traditions are nice." He shrugged. "You will see one of ours. Not one I am fond of, but you are about to see a Starfleet funeral. Well, as close as we could get."

I followed him to 10 forward and was shocked to see the entire room full of people. "Do all of these people know Pavel?" I asked amazed at the sheer number of individuals.

"In some way or another." He answered. "It looks like he is a popular guy."

I stood next to Uhura while McCoy joined Jim, Scotty, and Spock against the far wall facing the entrance. Each of the ship's commanders were wearing their finest just as they had done at dinner. Just to the left of the entrance were two boards. One held a collage of the pictures Pavel had given me and the other was a massive sheet of paper on which the attendees were encouraged to write messages of support for Pavel. The paper was nearly covered with writing and drawings from well wishers.

The doors opened again and this time it was Sulu with Chekov. As if on cue, the commanders stood at attention and sharply saluted him while Sulu took his place next to me and saluted along with everyone else in the crowd. It was the single most touching moment I had experienced on the ship. Pavel's eyes wavered as he looked over his legion of supporters and to the row of his superior officers, each with heads up and solemn faces while they honored their comrade with a prolonged salute.

He looked over at the boards and his eyes softened. One by one, people from the crowd made their way to him to offer condolences while Jim, Scotty, Spock, and McCoy stood at attention with their hands behind their backs just like Spock so often did. Sulu grabbed him by the shoulders and Uhura hugged him when they took their turns. I was the last one and McCoy used a look that said, 'get the hell over there', so I approached him and offered to shake his hand, but he drew me into a tight embrace. "Thank you, Dr. Collins. This vas more than I could have hoped for." He sighed in my ear.

Just as I was about to open my mouth to tell him that it was McCoy that put it all together, his voice came from behind. "Yes, she did a nice job." I pulled away from Chekov to see McCoy and Jim both smirking at me. He turned to once again salute Chekov and said, "My condolences, Ensign."

Jim also saluted, but it was much more sloppy and he instead opted for a handshake. "I am sorry, Chekov. I know how much he meant to you." His blue eyes were full of sincerity for his crewmember.

"I regret the news of your loss." Spock said with a perfectly executed salute and stoic expression. I smiled and so did Pavel. Despite his appearance, when the occasion called for it he was able to let his true intentions shine through and there was no doubt he meant what he said.

"Ah, come here ya bugger." Scotty exclaimed wrapping him in a bear hug. "When ya feel up to it, drop in and we'll have a drink to the dearly departed."

"I vill." He smiled. "I think I vill just stay here for a minute." He looked over to the boards with a sad smile.

"Take all the time you need." Jim said clapping him on the shoulder. "Chow has been moved to the lower decks for the night."

We all filed out quietly as he got up to read some of the messages that were left for him by the people who cared for him most. McCoy managed to do what I couldn't hope to accomplish on my own; give him comfort despite his assertion that he was never good at such things.


	16. Chapter 16 Making Hay

**Chapter 16- Making Hay**

I retrieved my shirt from McCoy's room and left him to shower. He should have gone to bed since he couldn't have had more than a few hours nap, but it made too much sense for his own good. He would probably sit up late working just to be contrary. I wandered the halls with nowhere in particular to go, trying my best to form a useable mental map so I wouldn't have to rely on the computer so much; it was starting to get embarrassing.

I was heading back to the lift on deck 2 when Jim stepped out looking drained. "You look like you have been drug trough a rat hole backwards." I smiled.

He gave his best boyish grin and replied, "I feel like it. It has been one looooooong damn day and I need a drink like a blind man wandering the desert. Care to join me at the watering hole?" He could be very charming when he wanted to and I could see how he got his reputation. Few mortal women could withstand that unassuming smile and those blue eyes that sparkled and danced when he wasn't in the thick of a crisis or stone drunk. But it seemed those moments were few and far between for Captain Kirk…

"I don't want to impose," I said quietly, "I would think you would enjoy the alone time. It seems that there isn't a moment when someone is not in your face."

He opened the door to the lounge and gestured for me to enter. "Nah, I don't mind. Truthfully, I hate being alone, especially when drinking. Never drink alone I always say, twice the alcohol for half the price."

I sat on the same stool I did for the after dinner party and wondered at how much had changed since then. I was still coming to grips with being adrift in time and also realized that my memory was faulty to say the least, but that seemed like so long ago…

"Pardon me, ma'am," He drawled in a terrible cowboy accent while setting a glass of Bailey's in front of me, "is this seat taken?"

"You are shameless," I smirked, "I am old enough to be your mother."

He took a drink of his beer and laughed. "Christ, you sound like Bones." He gave me a sly sideways glance. "What if I like older women?"

"From what I heard you like all women. Young, old, married, widowed, dead, different species…" I chuckled.

His eyes lit up and he blushed slightly. "Hey! You of all people should know that you can't believe everything you hear. It's a goddamn smear campaign I tell you. I would never have sex with a dead woman." He took a hit from his beer bottle and smiled. "Unless she was still warm."

"You are so not right." I laughed.

"You would know." He conceded studying the label on his bottle. "I'm sorry about making you do all of those evals in such a short time. I know Bones probably made a hash of it, he fucking hated doing that stuff."

"Not so much." I corrected. "For the people that did have notes, he was usually pretty close. But that reminds me, why were you and he smirking at me today when Pavel thought I was responsible for that whole thing? Why not tell him the truth?"

Jim smiled faintly and took another drink. "Bones would never take credit for that, it isn't his style. He is a tough bastard, but when the chips are down there isn't another fucking person I would want in my corner." He looked me in the eye and gave his famous lopsided grin. "You know it is because of him that I am even sitting in this damn chair."

"Did he keep you on track in the Academy while you were roommates?" I guessed. I could see McCoy being the type to be anal about crossing T's and dotting I's.

"Yeah, well he tried for the most part." He shrugged "He saved my ass from the fire so many times I can't even tell you, from doing my homework to having my back in bar fights, Bones was my wingman. But I got put on academic probation because I was accused of cheating on Spock's fucking Kobayashi Maru mindfuck of an exam when all hell broke loose and Starfleet had to call up the junior class of cadets, which Bones and I were in at the time. I was goddamn lucky that he was a doctor before he went to the academy rather than a real med student because that was what he used to sneak me onboard the Enterprise. If it weren't for him, I would probably have been kicked out of Starfleet and roaming the fucking cornfields of God forsaken Iowa."

"Did you cheat on the exam?" I queried.

He looked at me with a small, twisted smile. "That depends on what your definition of cheat is. I hacked the computer and changed the rules, I didn't break the damn thing."

"Why would Spock be giving an exam?" I puzzled, "I thought he was in the academy with you."

Jim laughed. "He was a fucking instructor! Can you believe that? He is so goddamn smart that he taught classes in computers and a bunch of other shit." He waved his hand dismissively and got another beer. "So you see how our relationship is a little….complicated. I don't know how he fucking does it to be honest. Don't know how it is he does his job day after fucking day looking down at me sitting in the command chair without wondering how it is that he, who is so motherfucking smart and does everything right all the time, isn't the one sitting there. I can tell you, if it were me I would beat the hell out of him the next time he asked for some fucking meaningless report."

"He gave me a verbal version of the test." I chuckled. "I told him to let the prisoners die."

"No shit?" Jim asked raising his eyebrows. "That is one solution, I guess. But not me. I believe in win-wins. The Maru was his baby. You know, you should examine his head to see why he would write such a fucking evil test that is meant to be impossible to win. There has to be something deeply wrong with a person that would do that kind of shit."

"So, Iowa 'huh?" I asked looking at the label of his bottle that depicted a field of wheat. "And you thought Chicago was a cesspool?"

He laughed remembering how he had accidently insulted me. "Yeah, but I got out of that shithole as fast as I could. Nothing but corn and cows. I would probably still be there if I didn't take a dare."

"McCoy dared you to join?" I queried. "He told me he was drunk when he joined, so it would make sense."

"No, I didn't meet Bones until he threatened to throw up on me on the shuttle to the Academy. Wouldn't surprise me that he was drunk when he enlisted, though." He shrugged. "I don't remember him being sober the whole first week I knew him. His ex really fucked him up." His voice was quiet and somewhat sympathetic.

"So who dared you to join?" I asked redirecting him. I smelled blood and it seemed to have something to do with Iowa.

"I met this guy at a bar. The former captain of this very ship." He smiled gesturing to the room. "He dared me to join, so I did. Told him I would finish the four year program in three. Thanks to the Romulans, I did."

"What was it about Starfleet that made you join?" I inquired. "Why not just stay in Iowa?"

"Iowa is fucking nowhere." He sighed. "There really wasn't anything about Starfleet itself that made me join. Fuck, both my parents were enlisted, so I knew the drill. I guess I joined because at that moment I had nothing else to do. My life was fuck all and if I hadn't joined I would have been killed by now in some seedy bar in a backwater town."

"What did your parents do?" I asked finishing my drink.

His eyes shifted abruptly and became darker. "It doesn't matter, it was a long time ago and they are both out now."

Bingo. He was noticeably irritated, so I decided not to prod him but I filed it in the back of my mind for later. "Well, regardless of why you joined, it seems like you are doing a fine job." I said lightly. "It can't be easy being so young, but it is very clear that your crew respects you.'

His smile returned and the clouds left his eyes. "They don't respect me!" He laughed. "They have all seen me in too many compromising situations to fucking respect me, but I know that they would fight with me to the end."

"That's the important part." I confirmed.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke up. "So, what's with Chekov? Will I have him tomorrow?"

"I think he will be fine." I surmised. "I think he will find the routine with his friends comforting."

He finished his beer and slammed it down on the counter. "He's tough. He would say it is because he is Russian, but what the hell ever." He sighed and looked at me. "So how are you and Bones getting on?" I raised my eyebrows and he blushed. "Not like _getting it on_, I mean the two of you…oh fuck. This isn't working out right."

I laughed at his flustered demeanor. "Don't worry, Jim. You threw me to the lion, but I am taming him like the mouse in the fairy tale."

He chuckled and said, "That will be the day."


	17. Chapter 17 This is Awkward

**Chapter 17- This is Awkward…**

I didn't go back to McCoy's room that night. I could handle hanging out and sharing a drink and some laughs, but I drew the line at a sleepover. I knew he was no predator, his southern sensibilities wouldn't allow him to make any inappropriate overtures no matter how much he had to drink, so it wasn't exactly an issue of safety. It was just too creepy, plain and simple. The only other person that would be equally unnerving and paradoxically even less of a threat would be Spock. So, I went to deck 5 to sleep on one of the empty biobeds and instructed the night nurse to wake me before my shift.

The next morning I was drinking my usual morning coffee in the office when McCoy came down. "Didn't come home last night." He frowned. "You could be a little more discreet if you are stepping out on me."

"Jealous much?" I asked with a smile.

He plopped down in his chair with a sigh. "I don't mind sharing, darlin', all I ask is that I not get sloppy seconds."

I took a sip of my coffee and squinted when it scalded my mouth. "You'll take what I give you and you will like it." I replied mocking his trademark scowl.

"Better than nothing, I guess." He muttered reading the notes from his night staff on his PADD. "Well, the worst is over now. We should be reaching the next Starbase late today, so you will get your room back. You can stop avoiding me already."

I recognized it for what it was, a very subtle attempt to make me feel guilty but I wasn't about to take the bait. "I am not avoiding you and I won't apologize for feeling uncomfortable in a man's room, even if he is playing house with me."

He gave me a prolonged glance that clearly emphasized that I should feel guilty since he had tried his damndest to make me comfortable, more than he would have done for anyone else. If I was still leery of him it was my own damned fault. He looked back to his PADD and furrowed his brow. "What the fuck, Jim?" He mumbled as though the machine could answer for him. He looked up at me, his muddy green eyes narrowed. "Looks like you are in for a very long day."

"Please," I scoffed rolling my eyes, "I already did psych evals for everyone on the ship. What else could he possibly throw at me?"

"How about a marathon of vaccinations?" McCoy hummed looking displeased. "He wants me to give you a full workup and update your vaccinations. Given that you are from the early 21rst century, you probably have around…what….5 maybe?"

I thought about it. "MMR, tetanus, hepatitis B, polio. I have had chickenpox, and I tested negative for tuberculosis and HIV about 6 months before I came. I think that was about it."

"What the hell is an MMR?" He asked puzzled. "I have never heard of that."

"Mumps, measles, rubella." I answered. "It was one combined shot."

"Huh." He huffed. "Well we don't have those anymore, except tetanus and hep B and even those cases are few and far between. Saddle up and let's get this show on the road." He commanded.

"Can I finish my coffee?" I begged. It was part of my morning ritual and my whole day would be thrown off if I didn't get it.

"Might as well." He agreed standing from his desk to prep for the fun that lie ahead. "I will need a urine sample eventually."

"Joy." I sighed into my cup. Why didn't Jim find it necessary to mention this last night? I would have appreciated a little lead time to get psychologically prepared for a full on medical assault from McCoy no less. With all of the revenge games that seemed to be going on, I wondered if this was Jim's first shot across the bow at me for maybe making him uncomfortable, but it just didn't seem his style to hold a grudge or be vindictive. I finished my coffee and bravely went forth to face my doom.

When McCoy said a full workup, that is exactly what he meant. Over the next couple of hours I was poked, prodded, invaded, scanned, and flip turned every which way but inside out while McCoy made meticulous notes and frequent ill tempered observations about the barbaric state of medicine in the 21rst century when he observed surgical scars on my knee. He was even more horrified when a scan revealed the presence of an implant consisting of titanium plates and screws used to repair it after a car accident left it heavily damaged. "What the hell is this?" He pondered as he held the transparent scan up to an overhead light so he could better see it. "Is that hardware?! For fuck's sake, you use that to repair hinges on doors, not inside a body!" He fumed. "Christ, I am afraid to scan your skull. I will probably find a hole where they tried trepanning you to release demons or something."

"It is amazing we lived at all." I mused.

"Tell me about it. I couldn't believe in my medical history class when I learned that it was common practice to take organs from dead people and put them into the living like Scotty would swap out parts in a warp core engine. It was all fucking voodoo and witch doctors back then." He said with a mistrustful glare.

"And yet it seemed to work remarkably well." I countered.

He huffed indignantly as he looked over the lab results on his clipboard. "I think you will want to be out for this next part." He warned. "I wouldn't even wish this shit on Jim."

He must have been talking about the vaccinations. "How many?" I squeaked.

He scanned the page he was on and then flipped to the next. "Somewhere in the neighborhood of 30 or so." I couldn't mask the horror on my face. "Hey, the universe is a big place full of strange and exotic diseases just waiting to kill you." He shrugged. "And those are just the ones we know about." I involuntarily flinched when he raised the hypo to my arm. "Hold still," he grumbled, "this won't hurt a bit." I was out before I could say 'bullshit'.

I was a little groggy when I woke up and my arms and thighs felt like I was stung by a swarm of bees. I groaned when I tried to move and soon McCoy floated into my field of vision. "Welcome back." He muttered still reading his clipboard. "See, that wasn't so bad. I will give you some light pain medicine to help with the discomfort." He reloaded the hypo and I shied away out of habit. "Hold still, dammit!" He growled. I heard the hiss of the gun, but felt only the slightest sensation of pressure.

"How did you do that?!" I asked wide eyed looking at the injection site.

"Pull the trigger." He said sarcastically. "A trained monkey can do it for Christ sake."

"But it didn't hurt!" I protested. "It always hurts!"

"Yeah, well there is an art to it." He begrudgingly admitted tossing the gun back onto the cart. "But I can't do it if you are squirming around like a cat being held by the tail." He pulled up a stool and sat by the bed and resumed looking over his clipboard.

"Have you ever done that for Jim?" I asked half laughing at his deception. "He almost has a phobia of the hypo."

"Fuck Jim." He said quietly putting the clipboard down. "I suppose in the interest of full disclosure I should tell you that you had a gynecological exam while you were out. I thought you might prefer it that way." My face went ashen pale and he rolled his eyes. "_I_ didn't do it, I just knew you would have a fucking fit over that even though I _am_ a professional and yours would be far from the first I have ever seen. But hell, if you couldn't even hack sleeping in my bed there was no way in hell you would be kosher with me seeing your business." He sighed in exasperation. "I had one of the female interns do it. Why didn't you tell me you were taking birth control?"

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "I guess it just never came up in conversation."

"Well it should have." He said emphatically. "It looks like you were taking a hormone derivative of progestin. The levels are almost normal which suggests it has nearly worn off. Look, it is nothing to be embarrassed about; most women on the ship choose to plan their pregnancies carefully because of their careers. It is no big deal. Would I be right if I guessed that you were in your late twenties or early thirties?"

"More right field than left, yes." I admitted. Didn't he know it was impolite to ask a woman her age?

"Then I do have to tell you that your clock is starting to wind down. The longer you wait to have children the higher the risk of complications, but it is entirely up to you. Looking at the results of your exam it doesn't seem like you have ever had children." He picked up the clipboard and scowled at it.

I looked at him and he was in full medical mode which I found reassuring. This really was just business for him no matter how awkward I felt about this conversation. I had to be brave in the event that the tables would someday be turned and it was he who was getting an intimate exam from me over some psychological crisis. It still seemed grossly unfair that I had to go first, though.

"I haven't," I confirmed, "and I don't want to."

He seemed caught off guard. "Ever?" He clarified slightly raising his eyebrows. "I mean, it really is none of my business if that is what you have decided." He mumbled hastily to the clipboard. "But if that is what you want, I can make that happen."

"That is what I want." I said with great certainty.

He solemnly nodded and left to retrieve another vial to shoot me with. Just as before he made it painless and I was grateful. "It is more or less a very long acting version of what you were taking." He explained. "Each shot lasts around 5 years, but it is completely reversible if you change your mind."

"I doubt I will." I muttered. "So why the exam? Why is Jim making us do this?"

His eyes grew dark and his voice was dangerously low. "He wants to get you ready for an away team. I think it is one of the worst goddamn ideas he has ever had, but of course he is too pigheaded to listen to me."

I considered his answer for a moment, but was confused. "What is an away team? Away to where?"

"Where the fuck ever." He replied darkly. "Usually the surface of a new planet, but we never know what the hell we will run into down there and that is why it is fucking stupid to put you in that situation. You are not trained in any way to protect yourself, but he seems to think that it is a stroke of fucking brilliance." He hung his head and seemed more sad than angry. "I am telling you it is a goddamn travesty waiting to happen. That is why I never go unless I absolutely fucking have to."

"Why would Jim want to put me in such a dangerous position?" I pondered. "He must have a logical reason."

"Spock he is fucking not." He spat bitterly. "I mean he is smart as hell, but sometimes he just impulsively jumps into things without thinking. He said he thought you might like to get off the ship once in awhile, but believe me you are far safer up here and this is where you belong."

There was something in his tone that betrayed him and it caught my attention immediately. I could understand his apprehension because I felt it too, but it seemed his concern overreached the simple preservation of my health. In the end I chose to pretend not to notice because I couldn't rule out the possibility that I had misinterpreted his meaning, but the small nagging voice in the back of my head couldn't let it go. It wasn't often that voice was wrong and that was what worried me most…


	18. Chapter 18 Payback

**Chapter 18- Payback**

As McCoy had indicated, we arrived at the Starbase in the early evening just past dinner time. He had convinced me not to go to 10 forward for food since I had never been down to a Starbase. He said he was tired of replicated food, but warned me not to expect too much. It seemed these Starbases that were scattered around the known sectors of the Federation were nothing more than glorified truck stops, but I was excited to experience it nonetheless.

"Thank God this one has shuttle service." McCoy growled as we left the sickbay together at the end of our shifts so I could collect my meager belongings from his quarters. "Not all of them do. Some of them you can dock directly to the port and others you have to beam down to. Progress they call it. I don't see anything wrong with the old fashioned method of walking, but if physics and flying particles aren't somehow involved then it is an archaic form of transportation." He scoffed. "Well to hell with progress. No one ever ended up in two places at once by walking."

I gently smiled at him. For whatever reason he had remained cranky since he told me about Jim's plans and he couldn't seem to shake it. I had resolved to cheer him up by night's end or at the very least distract him for awhile so it wouldn't feel like dinner with Darth Vader sulking in a corner. I had to admit that I too was a little edgy about participating in an away group, but I had to trust that Jim would never intentionally put me in danger. But therein lie the rub, McCoy pointed out. Wherever Jim was trouble seemed to follow, so technically he never meant harm to anyone; it just seemed to naturally befall any living being within arm's reach of Jim at ground zero. It besieged everyone indiscriminately like a hailstorm he told me, and it was usually just as unpleasant.

When we got on the lift, Chekov was already there. His shift had ended as well and he was most likely heading to his quarters before spending some time on the base. He politely moved to the side to make room for us and greeted with a nod, "Dr. Collins. Sir."

"Chekov." McCoy nodded in return. "Going down to the base tonight?" He asked making idle chatter.

"Yes, Sir." Chekov responded. "I am going to dinner vith Sulu and Uhura and then maybe some shopping. My little sister loves the little souvenir trinkets from the gift shops, so I collect them for her and send them home vhen I can." He explained.

"That's a nice thing to do." McCoy grumbled. He was running out of pleasantries and Chekov began to rock back and forth on his heels nervously. I tried not to stare, but I kept noticing Chekov glancing out of the corner of his eye at McCoy and his face was flushed. Something wasn't right….

The lift opened on 3 and McCoy stepped out, but looked back when I remained. "Go ahead," I encouraged, "I will be back in a minute." He squinted at me, but thankfully the doors closed before he could figure me out. "So, Pavel." I stated with a knowing look. "What is going on?"

He feigned his best innocent look which didn't fool me for a second. "Vhat do you mean, Doctor?"

He was up to something, but he didn't want to tell me. "How was work today?" I asked breezily.

"Deck 8." He told the computer before returning to me. "It vas fine. Kind of boring because I had plotted the course to the Starbase a few days ago and no changes were needed. I spent most of my day doing Navier-Stokes Equations. They deal vith turbulence, hydrodynamics and fluid flow, and if I can solve them it could help build better ships for the Federation." His eyes lit up at the possibility. I had no idea what kind of advanced mathematics solving them would require, but if anyone had a shot at cracking them, it would be Pavel.

"Sounds challenging." I mused. "Do you get some kind of prize for that?"

His wide blue eyes regarded me with amusement. "Maybe promotion, but that is not vhy I try." The doors opened on 8 and he bid me farewell. I silently cursed as the doors slid shut and ascended back to deck 3. He wasn't budging one inch and I thought he would be so easy…

McCoy let me in and I gathered my pajamas and placed them back in the box while he rifled through his closet for something to wear other than his uniform. He settled on a comfortable looking pair of jeans that were well worn and a dark blue button up. "It's getting late," he observed heading for the bathroom to change, "why don't you pick up your things after dinner so we can get moving?" He suggested.

"Ok." I agreed taking a seat on his neatly made bed. It seemed a lot more springy and soft than mine, and I found myself being just a little jealous.

_Well, you had your chance._

He emerged from the bathroom a changed man. He looked very different in rugged everyday wear, but his hair was styled in a slightly messy fashion- not the usual neat part and I smiled in surprise. He hesitated briefly with his hand still on the bathroom door when he caught my expression. "No!" I exclaimed when he started back. "It suits you well, it was just unexpected." He looked at the floor and smiled and I laughed.

"You can't wear your blue shirt down there." He stated returning to his closet to remove a white button up which he tossed in my direction. "I will get my ass chewed if any of the brass sees you in that. Just put that on and let's go." I pulled the blue tunic off over my head and slid my arms into his shirt. Black and white would never go out of style.

McCoy and I made our way to the shuttle bay through the engine rooms where we saw Scotty perched atop what looked like a transformer box, drinking. I had never before seen the engine rooms and they were remarkably clean and sterile compared to what I envisioned them to be. "Bones! How are ya' mon?" He called raising his bottle. "Ah haven't seen your likes down 'ere since my little 'uns got into a rammy and ya had to come break it up!"

"Yeah, that was a barrel of monkeys." He said dryly. "I never would have imagined swinging a three pound crescent wrench at someone would do so much damage. It is like the goddamn wild west down here, Scotty. You don't see people in fistfights in the sickbay for Christ sake."

"Nah, let 'em scuff it up and get on, I say." He waved dismissively. "Goin' to dinner, then? Ya look fair smashing, the both of ya." He commented with a warm smile. "Ah'm just waiting myself." He seemed to be looking directly at me and I grinned. I bet I knew who he was waiting on…

We said our goodbyes and entered the shuttle bay. It was a vast room that was divided into what looked like a cargo area where small craft could park separated by a control room behind a massive pane of glass. At the far end, the wall was open to the vastness of space, but it was covered by a shimmering blue substance of what I wasn't sure. It seemed to be maintaining the pressure in the room as there were several people gathered in the cargo area waiting for the shuttle and no one was being sucked out into space.

As promised, the Starbase was nothing special and I was somewhat disappointed. Sadly, the Enterprise was much nicer as far as amenities went. I sat at a table in the mostly empty base lounge with McCoy over a round of drinks and waxed philosophical. "Why are we here?" I sighed rhetorically. "Do you ever get tired of this?"

He regarded me over a mint julep, which he said was poorly concocted, and snorted, "All the time. What's on your mind?"

I stared at nothing in particular on the table and smiled. "It just doesn't seem real that I am sitting in a bar on a manmade space station orbiting some unknown planet somewhere very far from Earth. My 21rst century brain just cannot accept that as fact and yet here I am."

"Here you are." He echoed, stirring his drink with the tiny straw that came with it.

"It seems like the world I came from is so very different from the one I am in now that it just seems impossible, like some fairy tale."

"Whadda mean?" He asked squinting.

"You told me earlier today that a lot of the diseases that we just lived with have now been eradicated. HIV/AIDS was a world pandemic when I left that infected millions without a cure and now it is just gone?" I asked incredulously. "It seems like the very fabric of society has changed. Take for instance poverty. My family was very poor growing up, but that is something that you can't even relate to anymore because everyone has equal access to food and resources. Ending world hunger was a joke in my time, a line used by beauty queens to win pageants." He listened intently, his scowl deepening. "And equality? I was lucky enough to have been born after the civil rights movements of the 60's, but even then true equality was an ideal that fell well short of everyday experience. People may have smiled in your face, but God help you if you were a woman, black, Jewish, gay, an immigrant, disabled in some way, or any other number of other things because that meant that you had to work twice as hard to prove your worth. But now it is as if all of those things have been rendered irrelevant. While I am very happy to see some measure of social justice for all, these problems were so entrenched and systemic that I can't believe they have possibly been solved."

"Do you miss it?" He asked in a low voice. "Do you miss all of the poverty, disease, and inequality?"

I reflected on it before shrugging. "No, of course not; but it was all I knew."

"All of those things are still here, it just isn't as visible." He said lightly. "We probably have more disease than ever before, it is just not as often fatal. Inequalities between people are still alive and well. Otherwise, why would we bother making contact with other species to join the Federation so they can enjoy a stable food source and equitable economy? If everyone were equal and all was rosy, why do we spend so much time damn fighting the Klingons, Romulans, and god knows what else may be out there? Because an imbalance of power still exists and I am not sure it can ever be fully corrected, but we have to try." He lamented.

I smiled at him over his drink. "Why did you become a doctor?" I asked him. "Of all the things you could have possible done with your life, why that?"

He chuckled and his eyes lightened. "Tradition, I guess. Everyone in my family is a doctor of some sort, so I guess it just seemed natural. Reunions are absolute nightmares when you have a house full of doctors all arguing over what should be done for a paper cut. I always advocate for amputation, but…"

I squinted at him and shook my head disapprovingly. "That's not the whole story." He looked at me surprised and I continued, "I remember you told me that people like us all have a drive. So what is driving you?"

He tossed his hands up and sighed. "That's a good question. Probably at first I just wanted to fit in and be a doctor like everyone else because it was expected of me. Then I really wanted to change the world by maybe inventing a new technique that would save lives. But now?" He asked raising his eyebrows. "Now I just want to go to sleep at night knowing that I snatched one young soul from the mouth of death. They are all just kids these days." He grumbled sitting back in his chair. "Every one of them too young to die and way too damn eager to try."

"As the other member of the geriatric contingent of the ship, I agree." I smiled. "I am guessing you are somewhere in your mid to late 30's?" I queried.

He placed his hands behind his head and smirked. "A little south of that, but close."

Thankfully men didn't get so offended when you guessed they were older than they really were. "It is funny how we are not that far from them chronologically, yet I feel so old sometimes." I laughed.

"Well then," he said standing up, "we should get to bed. Old folks need their rest."

We took the next shuttle back to the ship and when we arrived, all hell broke loose. In the dock, McCoy angrily ripped down a flyer that had been posted on the control room door and grit his teeth. "Chekov!" I looked as he held it in his trembling hands and put my hand to my mouth in shock. It was the picture Pavel took of us going to dinner, but I had been removed from it and replaced with a blue, very busty and scantily clad alien with tentacles for arms that wrapped all around McCoy. One tentacle in particular rested perilously close to a delicate position and I bit my lip so I wouldn't laugh. We found another in the lift and several more in the hallways of deck 3.

Perhaps the most humiliating moment came when McCoy approached his door to see Spock standing a little further down the hall, staring thoughtfully at one of the flyers. When Spock looked up, McCoy pointed at him and growled, "Not a goddamn word out of your mouth about this. God so help me I will sneak into your room and skin you alive before you even wake up."

Spock made no acknowledgement of the threat, his expression never changed. He simply looked down at the photograph and back to McCoy with a slightly raised eyebrow before neatly turning on his heel to return to his room, the corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly.

I had never before seen McCoy so livid and I feared for Pavel's safety. He waited a long time to get his revenge, but it is said that revenge is a dish best served cold and no one does cold better than a Russian.


	19. Chapter 19 The Art of War

**Chapter 19- The Art of War**

I was ever so glad to be back on the ship. Being at the Starbase/truck stop made me feel dirty, although I couldn't say exactly why. Work was stressful, not because there was a sudden rash of psychosis, but being in the small office with McCoy fuming over Chekov was like sitting next to a ticking time bomb with an unknown length of fuse. I was exhausted. I felt like I had been held hostage during a bank robbery or something and I was glad to get out alive when the shift ended with no major bloodshed other than a verbal lashing to a poor intern who didn't wipe down the biobeds as fast as he would have liked.

Jim came down and tried to joke with him, but it only served to make him madder. I watched and tried to give Jim warning looks when I realized he was treading in dangerous territory. McCoy's anger seemed to move in distinct stages: shock, fury, and what may be regarded as acceptance although that part never came with resignation. Perhaps it was better described as capitulation. But there was a fourth stage that he could be pushed to that no man wanted to find himself in. Much like a wet cat, he would get eerily quiet and a blank expression would overcome his face when he was too angry to even respond. If you ever found yourself in that zone, the fear was palpable because you had no idea what was coming next.

Thank God Jim had a shred of common sense and knew when to stop just after he crossed that line with McCoy. He tried to backpedal by changing the subject to tell McCoy that he thought about his objections about me going on an away team and he was absolutely right. I should be taught some basic self defense first and Spock had agreed to show me some hand to hand combat techniques. That along with Sulu's continued training should be adequate in his estimation. Through the whole spiel, McCoy only sat there slowly blinking. I wasn't even sure he heard Jim. It was almost like he was fully catatonic and I was tempted to walk over to him and rub his sternum with my knuckles to see if he was at all responsive, but that was a painful sensation and who knew what he would do.

I changed into loose fitting clothes and was almost glad to be meeting Spock in the rec room. Getting the crap kicked out of me by him was better than 8 hours with McCoy when he was in a pissy mood. But then again, I reminded myself that he was a pacifist, so he probably wouldn't be too hard on me. I opened the door and found Spock in what looked like sweats and a white T-shirt. It was entirely appropriate for the circumstances, but it just seemed so strange. I had never seen him in anything other than his uniform, even when he was on leave that was what he wore. To see him so casually dressed seemed funny. Across the room, Sulu and Pavel were putting on their gear for fencing with grins that seemed far too wide to be casual. It was as if they knew something I didn't.

"Doctor." Spock greeted stepping toward me with a sense of purpose. "Have you prepared yourself for the evening's lessons?"

I smiled. "As much as I could, I guess. I am ready to be beaten senseless and lose to you over and over again."

He regarded me with a certain coldness in his eyes that was reflected in his voice. "Then you have already been defeated and there is no point in teaching you." I was stunned by his brutal honesty. "If you do not go into a combat situation with the mindset of being victorious, your opponent has already won. Now, I will ask you again. Have you prepared for your lessons?"

"I will take you down at least once." I revised, although secretly I scoffed at the possibility.

He paused before commenting. "A slight improvement." He stood with his hands behind his back and asked, "Have you ever read 'The Art of War' by Sun Tzu, Doctor?" When I just stared at him blankly, he took that as a negative. I had read parts of the 'Tao Te Ching'…"It was written in the 6th century BC and it is still in use today. For the purposes of hand to hand combat, several of his theories apply. First and foremost is the concept that it is not the size of your opponent, but the way in which the contest is waged that makes a difference. It will not matter how skilled I am compared to you, what will make you successful will be your ability to discover and exploit any weaknesses in my attack."

"As if you will ever make any mistakes." I muttered.

He raised an eyebrow and countered, "Weaknesses need not be errors, Doctor. I simply cannot hold every attack position simultaneously and you may have advantages at your disposal that I do not. It will be up to you to use them fearlessly. I will show you ways in which you can exploit weaknesses in someone who may attack you. Attempt to strike me, Doctor."

His face was so calm, I just couldn't make myself do it. "You want me to hit you?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yes, Doctor." He confirmed in a flat tone. "Pretend that I am a person who intends to harm you. Defend yourself." I just stood there staring at him. I couldn't imagine him ever harming me which made the prospect of actually punching him even more remote. Before I could even flinch he sprung forward and tackled me. I landed hard on the floor and opened my eyes to see him over me with his fist poised over my throat. With his face still placid, he said, "You would have been dead before you had the chance to open your eyes. You cannot hesitate for one second, Doctor. You must be ready at all times to defend yourself."

"I thought you were a pacifist!" I half laughed, my head still swimming from the unexpected impact. "I didn't think you would be so mean!"

"Being a pacifist means one does not initiate aggression, but one should protect themselves against attack. Not doing so is being a martyr, not a pacifist." He replied. "And I will do what is necessary for you to learn your lessons well, Doctor. To 'go easy' as you might call it would be doing you a great disservice in this pursuit."

He stood and extended his hand to help me up. "Now, throw several punches at me quickly. Go!" He commanded. I did as he asked and in every case he was able to block each one and redirect the force away from his body. When it was my turn to block, he threw very slow and lazy punches so I would have the chance to see them coming and position my forearm correctly to shield myself, but as the time passed he became faster and his jabs had a little bit of sting to them when I couldn't block them in time. My ribs ached from too many missed blocks, but I understood fully what he was doing. Pain was a great motivator and I found myself focusing harder to keep him from landing another shot on them. He was certainly not putting his full weight behind his thrusts, but it was enough to make me wince when he did land a hit. My opponents, he reminded me, would not be so merciful.

"You appear to have mastered the concept of defensive blocking." He stated after sometime. "We must continue to work on the speed with which you deflect incoming strikes, but I will defer until next time. Now I wish to show you offense. Another of Sun Tzu's theories states that in battle one must constantly assess the situation and be flexible in attack. Attack me." He demanded again putting his hands behind his back. I looked him over and wiped sweat out of my eyes. "What is your first instinct?" He prodded.

"Punch you in the face, I guess." I panted.

"Then do it." He replied calmly.

_This is crazy._

I halfheartedly threw a punch aimed loosely at his jaw and he easily caught my fist in his hand and twisted my wrist, drawing me closer to him. "That is not the move with the highest probability of success unless I have become visually impaired or the attack comes as a complete surprise." He scolded. "However, you neglected to use an advantage that I do not possess." He pressed his thumb deep into my wrist and my fingers extended reflexively.

It took me a minute to figure it out. "My fingernails?"

"Yes, Doctor." He breathed. "Your fingernails are of a sufficient length to cause extensive injury to my eyes, nose, or mouth. Almost anything can be used as a weapon. Always keep an eye out for anything that may confer an advantage to you against your opponent. Now that your first attempt has failed, what is your next move?" He asked still holding my wrist. "Assess the situation, Doctor. What part of my body is the most exposed?"

I looked at the placement of his feet and quietly whispered, "Your groin."

His deep eyes almost sparkled. "If you can successfully strike, it is most often an effective tactic against males of humanoid species." I brought my knee up, but he turned his hip and I ended up kneeing him on the outer thigh. "What is your next move, Doctor?" He again inquired.

Once again, I took stock of the position of our bodies and exploded with excitement when I realized that my leg was now behind both of his and there was no way he could get out of it. I used my left arm to more or less clothesline him and he fell backwards over my leg to the mat with a satisfying thud.

Being a good sportsman, I extended my hand to help him up. I knew he let me win, so I didn't celebrate too much. We sparred again and again with different combinations of moves, each in slow motion so he could explain to me why a particular strategy would work or why it would fail. More often than not, I was the one lying on my back, but occasionally I would figure out a way to back him into a corner and it was encouraging.

At the end of the night's lesson, we stood facing each other. I was panting and sweating profusely. I was exhausted and very sore. All he had to show for it was a light sheen of perspiration on his forehead and I was almost offended. He could have had the decency to pretend he was at least slightly winded. "The last of Sun Tzu's tenets was the assertion that a warrior should be stealthy as well as resourceful. It is my wish that you are beginning to grasp the core principles of his teachings as it applies to self defense. As we continue to practice, the last principle will come with speed when I can no longer clearly anticipate the way in which you may attack me. Am I to understand that you wish to continue your fencing lessons with Mr. Sulu?"

"I would like to." I stated looking over at he and Pavel as they lunged forward and backward, foils flashing. Compared to this, fencing would feel like a warm-up stretch.

"Very well. I will meet with you every other night after the evening meal. Consult with Dr. McCoy to determine if such a schedule of physical exertion will be permissible." He instructed. "I will modify the timing of the lessons if required. Until the next lesson, have a peaceful rest." He bowed slightly and turned to leave.

"Thanks for teaching me, Spock." I called after him. He stopped and regarded me for a moment before walking out the door.

I tried very hard to glean some information from his face, but he was absolutely unreadable and I was left wondering what his position on this whole away team thing was. Jim was all for it, Spock seemed indifferent, and McCoy was dead set against it. I didn't really know where I fell on that spectrum. On the one hand I very much wanted to stand on the surface of another planet, one that no one had previously been on like Neil Armstrong had done on the moon. On the other, the fear and dread I saw in McCoy's eyes when he told me it could be dangerous was very real. I knew he was at times prone to exaggeration, but it didn't feel like he was being overly dramatic.

When I got back to my quarters, I winced when I pulled my shirt off. I looked down at my body and was in some strange way proud of the bruises I saw forming over my ribs and forearms. It was a good thing that the uniforms were long sleeved so no one would see, but still I thought I should tell McCoy. I wasn't sure how he would react, but I had to be up front with him. If he found out some other way, which he was always suspiciously able to do, he would either be very angry or extremely disappointed. Either prospect seemed undesirable, so I resolved to casually drop it in after I had got him in a good enough mood. But that was tomorrow, I had a long night of deep sleep ahead that I was very much looking forward to.


	20. Chapter 20 Quid Pro Quo

**Chapter 20- Quid Pro Quo**

Thankfully McCoy was at least in a neutral mood when I got in, more than I could have hoped for given the day before. I found him in the office, drinking a black coffee and reading a PADD. On my desk sat a white, steaming cup and I smiled.

"You know, as your doctor I have to tell you that you will develop diabetes if you keep sucking those down every day. Do you know how many calories are in those things?" He mumbled, concentrating on his reading.

"Yeah, but I am working it off, believe me." I replied, blowing on the surface to cool it. For some reason the replicator always made it just short of boiling.

"So I heard." He lilted tossing the PADD on his desk.

"How do you know these things? Are you clairvoyant or a telepath?" I laughed.

"Nope, nothing special. Just a regular time clock puncher with a legion of moles in every department that will feed me information in exchange for mercy." He smirked. "So, I heard you got your ass handed to you by the pointy eared bastard. Bet you didn't think that would happen." He chuckled softly.

"I knew it wasn't going to be easy, but he was rougher than I thought he would be." I admitted. "I was hoping you would have some time to check it out today."

His eyes grew dark and he squinted at me the way he did when he is angry or exceedingly suspicious. "What happened?"

I put my coffee down and answered, "Nothing really, I just tend to bruise easily and I missed a few too many blocks. It is probably nothing to worry about." I waved him off.

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" He asked tersely. Oh dear, he seemed to be moving into stage 2 and I simply couldn't handle another day of that.

"McCoy, promise me you will keep a cool head. Remember, professional detachment?" I pleaded. "Just keep in mind that I told you about it, for once you didn't have to find out from someone else, ok?"

His eyes cleared somewhat, but the acid was still in his voice. "What difference does that make?"

I sighed and looked away. "I would just hope that you would offer me the same courtesy, and I have tried to respect your position from submitting to incredibly invasive exams to helping you and your staff in any way I can including sewing people up."

He shrugged noncommittally. "Yeah, can't complain."

"Do you feel I have been fully cooperative with you as my physician?" I asked over my coffee.

He knitted his eyebrows and shifted in his chair. He obviously could not see where this was going. "Yeah, I guess. What's your damn point?" He asked irritated.

I put my coffee down and leaned forward in my chair, looking him directly in the eyes. "Then you need to be cooperative with me. I know you can be cranky when things get stressful, but let's face it- the last day or so has been over the top, even for you. What has changed?"

He looked away quickly and shuffled through a stack of files aimlessly. "Nothing. It's nothing."

Ah denial, the most primitive of defense mechanisms. I tried the soft and soothing approach, hoping he wouldn't take it as patronizing. We had been together long enough that I hoped he would see it for what it really was: concern. "McCoy, I have seen you deal with circumstances that would give the average mortal nightmares. I know you have the wherewithal to handle extreme situations, so whatever this is must be of galactic proportions to shake you like this."

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and rhetorically asked, "Who said I didn't have nightmares?"

"Fair enough." I conceded with my hands in the air. "Still, you are capable of continuing your job, so you at least have the ability to effectively control it. But lately you have lost that ability and you have been taking it out on others unfairly."

He shot me a look so full of anger I almost flinched. "Do you think I have been treating you unfairly?" He was absolutely seething.

I had to diffuse the situation quickly before he bypassed stage 3 and went straight to 4. "No," I laughed, "you have been very generous to me. But then again, I have learned to distinguish your outbursts between an earthquake and an actual eruption. Still, I left here yesterday exhausted from trying to keep your mood in check. The sustained management of your temper felt like trying to alter the pull of gravity."

"I do not need you to manage me." He growled through his teeth.

"Really?" I asked raising my eyebrows. "It was fortunate Jim had the good sense to leave when he did yesterday or you would have vaulted your desk and murdered him where he stood."

He shook his head and waved me off. "Jim is just…..Jim."

"Jim is your friend, and a good one at that so he will overlook your indiscretion. Not everyone on this ship is, McCoy. All it would take is shooting off your mouth to the wrong person and you could find yourself brought up on charges. Let's face it, McCoy, you haven't done a lot to ingratiate yourself to some people on this ship and they would love nothing more than to take you down. Now, are you going to let them or are you going to give me the ammunition for safe keeping?" I asked quietly.

_Come on, McCoy, be reasonable. Trust me._

He fidgeted in his chair and scowled. He was obviously struggling between wanting to tell me, but he also held back as if he wanted to preserve his reputation or something.

_Come on, baby. Give it up._

He sighed and looked at me. I held his gaze with a neutral, non threatening expression to let him know that whatever it was I would not judge him for it. He had to believe I would be impartial. I cheered internally when I saw the resistance crumble in his muddy green eyes. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and exhaled, "I got a transmission from my daughter, Jo. She has always been daddy's little girl, but in the message she said she hated me and she never wanted to see me again because her mamma is getting married and she loves her step dad more than me." His heartache was evident and I instantly felt for him. It was clear his daughter meant the world to him although this was the first I had heard of her.

"How old is she?" I inquired.

"She's 10 now. God, I can't believe it. My little girl is growing up so fast." He lamented shaking his head with a sad smile.

"Well, she is at the age where she will start asserting her independence. But sometimes kids say things that they don't really mean in the heat of the moment if you make them angry." I offered. I was no child psychologist, so I was treading water here.

"I know she didn't mean it. It was her goddamn mother that put her up to it." He grumbled getting into a nearby cabinet for a bottle of whiskey. I didn't say anything, but it was only 9:20am, kind of early in the day to tie one on. "The fucking harpy told me last week she was going to remarry. Good riddance I say, but she also told me that she was going to petition to have my parental rights to Jo terminated on the grounds that I am negligent since I am so far away all the damn time."

"Do you think she would succeed?" I asked apprehensively. In my time she wouldn't have had a snowball's chance in Hell as long as he kept up with his child support payments, but I wasn't up on current laws.

He threw back his shot and squinted when the burn kicked in. "Probably not on her own, but if she can get Jo to tell the court that she wants nothing to do with me, that would put the last nail in my coffin. Goddamn her, she took every last damn thing I had and now she wants to take my baby. I am halfway across the known universe and there isn't one fucking thing I can do about it." He decided against using the shot glass again and took a drink directly from the bottle. "And don't think that wasn't planned." He continued. "She waited until I was too far away to defend myself because she sure as hell knew I would fight to the death for my little girl." His voice cracked at the very end and his hands, so steady as a surgeon, began to tremble slightly.

"So what are your options?" I had to get him to see the big picture before he lapsed into absolute hopelessness. Once that happened, I would be up on suicide watch and the ship would be without a CMO; that was a place I did not want to be with him.

He scoffed. "The only thing I can do is challenge the petition once we get back to Earth, but God knows when that will be."

I glanced back at my jar of sand and remembered how he told me the missions were unpredictable and could last for quite some time. It hurt me deeply to see him suffer because although the ship saw him as a menacing figure to be feared, I knew him to be a good man at the core. What was worse, unlike Pavel who was generally a likeable guy, McCoy was not as well loved on the ship and therefore he would probably not find much support outside of Jim, myself, and maybe Scotty. I wasn't even certain Spock could fully comprehend his misery, sadly he would probably find it logical that Jo should have two present parents over one absent one. But if there was anything I learned during my rotations as a student, it was that people could live through the most horrific circumstances as long as they had just one person to hold on to and rely on.

"McCoy, I am sorry to hear about this, but I want you to know that I will always be available to you if you want to talk or just kick back and have a drink. No matter what time it is, you will always be welcome." I had to remind him that he had friends in the event this all did end in tears. "And I think I can safely speak for Jim on this as well."

He smiled faintly, but didn't look at me. "You did your job, now let me do mine." He said leaving to get a tricorder. When he returned, he stated, "Now let's see those bruises." He was where he was most comfortable: in the role as a doctor; confident, in control, and possessing full authority- all things he was currently lacking in his personal life. I removed my shirts and he carefully examined my ribs and forearms before scanning them. "Looks like some capillary damage." He reported reading the screen. "I will have to tell Spock to lighten up a little. His physiology is a little different, he probably didn't realize how hard he was really hitting you. I want you to come back after your next practice so I can better tell if you can keep that pace up or if you will need some time to recover between lessons, and I do mean immediately after- no matter what time it is."

I put my shirts back on and said, "I will. Thank you, Dr. McCoy."

He smirked at me and replied, "And I will too. Thank you, Dr. Collins."


	21. Chapter 21 Discoveries

**Chapter 21- Discoveries **

I continued my lessons with Spock as well as Sulu with McCoy's hesitant blessing. Spock was getting me to think and react faster in our sessions by teaching a meditation technique called mindfulness. On the surface, the two seemed unrelated, but with practice one could put themselves in a state of detached calmness that allowed them to focus entirely on that moment. Like small glimpses of a foreign land, I could occasionally stop trying to figure out what his next move would be and simply observe his stance and see his options of attack as he did. In this way, I could think like he did and it was much easier to defend yourself if you knew your opponent's mind as well as your own.

McCoy came down a few times with Jim after dinner to watch, which I thought was a little odd. McCoy never showed his face in the rec room unless someone dropped weights on their neck or lost an eye fencing. He much preferred to stay to himself and socialize with Amber- or any brown alcohol at hand. I just chalked it up to his desire to see Spock get taken down by a woman no matter how infrequent that may have been, and he certainly did smile wide when I was able to.

His mood soured, however, when one morning Jim paged me in the office to tell me to report to the bridge for my first away excursion. I was giddy with anticipation. After all, what else had I been training so hard for if not the chance to see another world up close and personal? Although the page was for me, McCoy felt it necessary to escort me and I knew why. Even though his opinion was not sought, the particulars of this mission would have to pass muster for him to allow me to go. I was under the distinct impression that if any aspect of this trip did not suit him, he would not hesitate to throw up a red card and declare me medically unfit without feeling a need to further justify his decision. He simply didn't have to, he was the damn CMO and no one ever questioned him except Jim, but even then he usually prevailed with well timed profanities and wilting glares that were every bit as sharp as his surgical tools.

When we arrived, Jim was standing with Sulu at Spock's station. "Bones!" Jim exclaimed, slapping him on the shoulder. "You have a wicked sense of timing. I was just going to call you."

"Why?" McCoy inquired, folding his arms across his chest and squinting at his friend in a distrustful manner.

"On screen, Spock." Jim requested before pointing at an image of a red planet on the huge viewing wall. "This is AR-558. Starfleet wanted us to swing by and check it out. We thought it was uninhabited, but there are signs of infrastructure on the surface." He looked at me and smirked. "I thought this would be a good one for you to start off on. It is essentially a mud ball with some old buildings on it, but we don't want to plop you down into something dangerous."

McCoy's scowl grew deeper as did his voice. "You are going to send her down there when it could be inhabited? God knows what's down there."

"I am not God, Doctor," Spock interjected dryly, "but bio scans did not detect any life forms on the surface, indicating there is in fact nothing down there."

McCoy wanted to throttle him at that moment judging by the way the veins in his neck came to the surface and pulsed slightly, but he chose to direct his attention to Jim who was snickering. "So what the hell does all this have to do with me?" He growled. "There is no reason for me to go down unless you are planning on getting yourself into trouble, which you always somehow manage even on an absolutely barren world covered in nothing but dirt."

Jim chuckled and replied. "I know you love me, Bones. But I know that you love being in command even more." McCoy's face fell and he looked at Spock. "He's going, along with Sulu." Jim pointed out.

"What about Scotty, then?" He asked irritated.

"Scotty is going too because there seems to be some remnants of technology in some of the buildings and we need him to check it out. With Spock, Scotty, and I all off the ship, you are next in the chain of command, so…" He gestured grandly to his seat below Spock's console and smiled grandly. "She's all yours. Don't break her."

He glared at Jim and plopped down with a huff. Unlike Scotty, McCoy looked at home and something like the Emperor minus the wrinkles and cape as he sat fuming. "If I had any goddamn sense I would take off and leave you there for this and every other spiteful thing you have done to me since the day I met you."

"Wow, Bones." Jim observed turning to Spock. "And I thought your memory was long." McCoy turned to Jim in the chair and just stared at him. "Relax. We will be down and back in no time. Chekov and Uhura will keep you company while we are gone." He waived dismissively. McCoy turned back to look fiercely down at Pavel who was sitting at his station trying to ignore the burning sensation of the CMO's glare on the back of his skull. McCoy's memory didn't need to be that long to remember the doctored photograph. Jim leaned over Spock's console to tap him on the shoulder. "Bonsey, would it make you feel better if I brought back a souvenir for you?"

McCoy sighed and looked up at his friend. "The only thing I want you to bring back is yourself, completely intact. I know it is a lot to ask, but why don't you give it a try?"

Jim straightened and smiled. "I will do the best I can. I need to borrow Chekov to run the transporter since Scotty can't. Sit tight and we will be back in a flash." Chekov looked infinitely relieved like a mouse that had been removed from the snake's cage and we made our way to the transporter room where Scotty was waiting for us.

I nervously took my place in a circle on the pad next to Scotty. "Never done this afore, lass?" He asked with a wicked grin when he noticed the tension in my face. "Nothin' to it, really. Just close your eyes, take a deep breath. That's what ah do."

"Energizing." Pavel announced. I did as Scotty suggested and tried not to panic when I felt as though I were melting before becoming light and floating. There was a brief moment when I was not aware of anything before the whole process reversed itself and I found myself solid and whole again. I was shaking a little and the first few steps were difficult, but Sulu placed a supportive hand on my shoulder and said, "It is hard for everyone the first time they do it. You will be fine." His warm smile was comforting and I thanked him.

"Ok." Jim mused squinting out at the vast, barren landscape that stretched out to the horizon in front of us. Wind kicked up dry, red dust and we all squinted to keep it out of our eyes. "According to the scans, the machines seem to be in the buildings to the left. Scotty, Spock, why don't you guys check that out while Sulu, Collins, and I see what is in the main complex."

We broke up and I instinctively stayed close to Sulu as Jim sprang ahead like a kid in a candy store. Sulu shielded his eyes against the bright sun and looked up at the red stone structure that reminded me faintly of Greek temples; massive columns supported flat roofs under the blazing sky. There was no source of shelter for miles in any direction and I wondered who lived here and why they left. I looked back to the horizon and it seemed somehow darker than it did just a minute ago. I casually pointed it out to Sulu who regarded the phenomenon warily.

"Captain!" Sulu yelled inside the empty room. His voice echoed off the walls, but Jim did not respond. "Captain!" He again shouted before muttering, "Dr. McCoy will have my ass if something happened to him this quick. What could he possibly have gotten into?" We looked around, but he was nowhere to be found.

We were both startled by a shuffling and grunting noise coming from a far back wall that was partially obscured by a fallen column. Sulu drew his phaser and slowly approached, motioning for me to stay back. "Sulu!" came Jim's voice. We both rushed forward to see him struggling to wiggle through a crack in the wall that a terrier would have difficulty getting through. He was covered in scrapes and his shirt was torn. Sulu looked dismayed. "There is a whole underground chamber down there." He gasped finally pulling his legs free. He stood and held out an old looking scroll. "Look what I found. I think it might have something to do with what happened here."

Sulu moved back to the entrance for more light and all of us huddled around to see what amounted to cave paintings depicting stick figures of two different types fighting. "I don't know who they are," Jim said pointing to the figures on the right with weapons poised, "but these are obviously women." He shared a sly smile with Sulu when he pointed to the left where all of the figures were equipped with breasts as well as weapons.

"Do you think it was some kind of gender war? I don't see any women on the other side." Sulu asked.

"Maybe it is some kind of mating ritual, I don't know." Jim laughed. "But there is writing on another that was with it. We will see if Uhura can make anything of it."

Outside it was getting very dark. The wind was picking up and sand began swirling in dangerous patterns. We heard Scotty yelling before he and Spock dashed into the door, brushing sand off their uniforms. Spock regarded Jim's rumpled appearance briefly, but didn't appear to think it was anything out of the ordinary. "I believe we have been caught by a sandstorm, Captain." He reported stiffly. "We should return to the ship if it is still possible."

"You are probably right, Spock." He concurred removing a communication device from his belt. "Kirk to Chekov." There was only a garbled response. "Chekov, do you read me?" He asked again. Only static greeted him.

"Shite." Scotty breathed plopping down. "Might as well wait it out, Captain."

We all took seats on the cold floor more or less in a circle. "What did you guys find over there?" Sulu asked making conversation.

"The machinery they had was fair busted up and primitive." Scotty scoffed. "But the last transmission was on a loop. It was a distress signal sayin' they was under attack." Jim showed the two men his find and Scotty immediately burst into laughter while Spock studied it thoughtfully. "A clan of lasses?" He roared. "Och! They can hunt me any day!" Spock stared at him blankly.

The storm continued to rage outside while Jim and Scotty tried to explain to Spock why they found the drawing funny while Spock lectured them on the mythology of matriarchal warrior societies in his trademark dispassionate tone. Sulu and I sat quietly and listened, determined to stay out of the debate no matter how many times we were entreated to join in.

After some time, the storm finally passed and Jim could clearly hear Chekov when he instructed us to move outside quickly before the second half of the storm hit. The strange dissolving feeling came over me when Chekov retrieved us and I was glad to see his face at the controls of the transporter room.

I followed the rest of the group up to the bridge to see McCoy still scowling. Behind him, the planet was still on screen, but what looked like a large hurricane marred it's previously placid face. "Holy shit!" Jim exclaimed pointing at it with a sparkle in his eye. "Is that the storm we just came out of?"

"Yes, Jim." McCoy confirmed in a low voice. "Only you have the ability to conjure up a natural disaster by your sheer presence." He looked his friend up and down, taking stock of his condition. "And I see you failed to keep your promise."

Jim glanced down at himself before turning on the charm. "I didn't promise you nothin'. I said I would try." He smiled. "Guess I didn't try hard enough. But you have to admit, Bones, this is the best I have ever looked coming back from an away mission and you don't even have to check me out. That's something, right?"

"Yes, Jim. You sure are something." He admitted relinquishing the chair and heading to the lift.

"Bonsey!" Jim called after him. "You know you love me!" McCoy huffed and shook his head as the doors closed.


	22. Chapter 22 Love and Duty

**Chapter 22- Love and Duty**

It was a slow day in sickbay and my eyes were tired from reading the oh so interesting articles on psychology on the PADD in the office. I tossed it on my desk and rubbed my face with a protracted sigh. McCoy was out in the sickbay tending to a cook who experienced an unfortunate encounter with a dicing machine. Not all food on board was replicated; there was a kitchen that would cook actual food for special occasions if they had the correct provisions. If they were missing a particular ingredient, they got it from the replicator, so I guess in a way you could say all food was replicated.

I again picked up the PADD and switched it to message mode. On it, I typed a message to McCoy telling him I went down to the engine room to talk to Scotty if he needed to find me for any reason. I left it on his desk, a modern day sticky note.

I instantly felt better the moment I stepped into the lift. I had only been to the engine rooms once and that was to get on a shuttle. I smiled as I remembered Uhura and Sulu's excitement at me meeting Scotty so he could show me around over dinner so long ago. Better late than never, I guessed.

I stepped off the lift into an atmosphere of barely controlled chaos. People were running and yelling with a sense of purpose. So much so, I wondered if we were under attack and I somehow missed the warning sirens. From out of the fray, Scotty stepped forth with a death grip on a large wrench like it was a baseball bat. "Ah am sick to hell with all ya!" He bellowed. "Now get your arses in gear afore I brain every last one of ya and Starfleet'll have to send me a box of monkeys to replace the lot of you." He waved his wrench in the air menacingly. I stood there stunned. And I thought McCoy was the terror of his department. He often yelled empty threats at his staff, but he never waved any surgical instruments at them.

_McCoy did say it was like the wild west down here and it looks like Scotty is Wyatt Earp._

He turned to glower at me, but his expression quickly changed when he recognized me. "Dr. Collins!" He beamed. "What brings ya here? Did one of me little 'uns call ya?" He asked looking around. "Would be just like 'em not to tell me."

"No one called me, Scotty." I laughed. "I came down here on my own."

He batted his eyes and asked, "Are ya after me, then? Did ya come to get in me head?"

He made me sound like a stalker and I was slightly offended. "Not so much. I was hoping to learn a little more about how the ship works, but it looks like it might be a bad time for you. I am sorry, I should have called you first." I said politely.

His eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas. "Och! I didn't know ya were interested, Doc! She's a real bonnie lass, there are none like her!" This man loved his job more than a person had a right to. He tossed his wrench away with a clang and proceeded to walk me through his department, eagerly chattering away about things I couldn't hope to remember. There was mention of plasma inducers, dilithium crystal articulation frames, and theta matrix compositors along with an alphabet soup of acronyms for various parts of the ship's engine assembly and a slew of Scottish slang.

I was numb by the end of the tour, but all the while I oohed and ahhed as politely as if he were telling me mundane details of his own child's development. In the end, I was convinced that Uhura was right, if there was a better engineer in the known universe, Starfleet hadn't found them yet. I was convinced he knew the location and purpose for every wire and rivet in the bowels of the ship, which I found greatly comforting considering his penchant for insane spontaneous reengineering when the occasion called for it.

Along the way I saw the engineer who got his hand stuck on my first day on duty in the sickbay. He smiled and waved, "Hiya, Doc!" I also saw a young woman, working furiously inside an access panel. She gripped her tool tight and wrenched away with a determined look on her face. I smiled, proud that she found herself comfortable among the guys, although there were several other women who worked in the department as well. She reminded me of Rosie the Riveter from the iconic WWII poster, dressed in coveralls, arm flexed, announcing to the world that women could do the same job as men while they were away at war.

"Are ya' in a hurry to get back to sickbay, Doc?" Scotty inquired.

"Not really." I answered truthfully. "McCoy knows where I am if he needs to find me."

"Why don't ya join me for a little tie on, then?" He offered. I had no idea what he was actually offering, but he seemed a decent man so I couldn't imagine it would be anything too off color. He led me to his office where he dug behind some old equipment manuals to get a hidden bottle of what I assumed was alcohol. It seemed everyone on this ship was a lush and drinking on the job was almost expected. Pretty remarkable I thought, considering the Enterprise was supposed to be Starfleet's flag ship. If this was the norm on the best the fleet had to offer, what was a day like on a lesser ship? Then again, it probably had more to do with Jim's relaxed attitude than anything else. He probably couldn't be bothered to enforce the rules so long as his Chief Engineer and CMO stayed just below legally drunk on most days.

He offered me a glass of the unknown substance and I wondered if it was his secret concoction that McCoy gave me in the lift after perhaps one of the most horrible days of my life. I stared at it with great trepidation, wondering if it was safe to drink or if it would cause instantaneous liver failure. "So," I said saving it for later, "you seemed a little freaked out earlier. Do I frighten you?"

He chuckled and replied, "Not much does, Doc. After ya work with the Captain for any time, ya don't fear nothin'. Ya'd be glad to laugh in the face of Death himself."

"Do you want to hear a joke?" I asked with my best disarming smile.

"Aye." He replied sitting up in his chair smiling.

"So a psychologist is conducting a group therapy session with mothers and their young children. 'You all have unhealthy obsessions' he tells them. He goes around the room and tells the first woman, 'You are obsessed with eating- you named your daughter Candy.' He tells the next, 'You are obsessed with money- you named your daughter Penny.' He says to the next mother, 'You named your child Brandy- you obviously have a drinking problem.' The last woman in the group gets up and pulls her son by the arm and says, 'Let's go home, Dick."

Scotty's jaw dropped and he cackled until his face turned red. "Ah knew I loved ya the moment I laid eyes on ya, lass!" He choked. "A bonnie that can drink and tell dirty jokes is a right keeper!"

I smiled and worked up the courage to drink what he had given me. I quickly downed it and it was every bit as painful as I feared it would be. My eyes watered and I coughed, I hoped he was not an overly generous man to give me a refill. "So, do you go on away missions often?" I asked trying to get my mind of the feeling that my esophagus was eroding like I just drank Draino.

"Nah." He answered waving me off. "No need most times. Suits me fine, ah am most happy here. Usually the Captain makes me mind the bridge while he and the Commander bounce off and that is bad enough, but yesterday was more than a body could take."

"Why is that?" I croaked out. My throat felt freshly exfoliated.

He laughed and slapped his desk. "Ah thought ya knew on account of ya havin' eats with Uhura every day."

"I do know." I admitted. "She told me awhile ago."

"Hoots! God but wasn't it hard goin' with that Jimmy alone! After he caught me snoggin' his girlfriend, I thought he would sneak up behind me and give me a nerve pinch or choke the ghost outta me like he did the Captain." His expression grew serious at the thought. That moment seemed to be indelible and salient to everyone that witnessed it, I almost wished I was there to see it myself. It must have been incredible.

"Did he say anything to you?" I asked curiously.

"He didn't. But that was almost worse." He answered morosely. "Ah wish he had. Ah wish he woulda called me a no good sot or kicked me in the bollocks good and proper. At least we could get on with it, but ya never know what the cryptic bastard is thinking from one second to the next and that makes the sufferin' unbearable."

I tried not to smile when I remembered the twinkle in Spock's eye when he told me kicking male humanoids in the nuts was often a good strategy. I doubted that he, as a fellow male, would inflict that kind of suffering on another. I have had male friends describe to me what an unpleasant sensation it was. From how they explained it, it felt like their testicles settled somewhere around their liver and they were left breathless and wavering between passing out or puking from the pain.

"I don't think he means you any harm." I reassured him. "Don't me wrong, he is not peachy with it, but I don't think he is particularly angry with you."

"Ah would be. That was a shite way to find out." He lamented shaking his head. "The Commander might seem a bit off, but he is a fine Jimmy and deservin' of better. Ah feel like shite over it." He seemed genuinely remorseful and I could tell he really did respect Spock as a colleague.

"I will tell you the same thing I told Uhura." I offered him leaning forward in my chair. "Maybe later, when enough time has passed that it is not so painful, you can talk to him about it and apologize to him yourself. While that is not something he would usually go for, I think that coming from you it would mean a lot even if he doesn't outwardly acknowledge it."

"Ah might." He nodded. "It is the only right thing to do as a man." He sighed and slumped in his chair. "Do ya mind if Ah turn on some music, Doc? Ah am in a dour mood and need a bit of cheer."

"Not at all, Scotty." I smiled. "I love music, remember?"

"Aye, that you do. How aboot Fratellis?" He asked laughing. "A right good drinkin' band. Ya know it is your doin', Ah never heard 'em until the night I met ya." He ordered the computer to play a selection of songs and his mood immediately improved. "So, Dr. Collins." He said kicking his feet up. "I told ya my particulars. Can ah ask about ya and the good doctor?"

"McCoy?" I scoffed. "What _is_ with you and Uhura? Once again, there is nothing with us. I work with him and that is all. To get involved with him would be a violation of professional ethics." I was starting to wonder if the whole ship saw us that way. If so, I would have to start spending less time with him to slow down the rumor mill that seemed to be churning.

"Aye." He said mockingly. "'Tis a shame, then. The doctor is a right good man. He may act the wanker most times, but he is the fairest bloke ah have ever met aside from the Captain."

"That may be so," I sighed, "but some things are just off limits. That is part of the job."

He regarded me with a mixture of sadness and amusement as though he were privy to some big picture that I could not yet see and it felt patronizing. Professional standards apparently didn't account for much on this ship as Spock, Uhura, and Scotty all had a love triangle going and Jim was probably a world class philanderer fast approaching that of a porn star.

I guessed I was just too old fashioned. Between the drinking and hooking up, the ship at times seemed less a military vessel and more a floating frat house.


	23. Chapter 23 First Time for Everything

**A/N: So it has now become clear that this will run longer than "Out of Time" against my original intentions. I will try to wrap it up in 30 or so. I just have a few more things to throw at our merry band…so a huge thank you is order for those of you who have followed along all this time. Special thanks to OceanFae and ArbitraryBlackness- you guys rock! One last thing before I set you loose- what happens to Morgan is based on actual research by NASA in 1965- who knew?! Reviews are love. Cheers!**

**Chapter 23- First Time for Everything**

It was a good thing I was still in Scotty's office. He and I were singing bawdy drinking songs when McCoy appeared in the doorway with a look on his face that made me immediately jump to my feet. The last time I saw that expression he had been up to his elbows in human guts for hours on end when the Romulans attacked.

When he spoke, his voice was barely controlled panic. "Collins, we have a problem."

I followed him to the cargo bay where Spock and Jim stood in the control room looking out at a person in a blue uniform pacing the floor aimlessly. It was not at all peaceful, the person was clearly agitated judging by the way they gripped the sides of their head with their hands with way too much force. Whoever it was seemed to be muttering to themselves, but I couldn't see the face clearly.

"It's Meyers." McCoy sighed. "I don't know what the hell happened. He said his head hurt. When I tried to examine him, he seemed distracted, almost completely out of it. I was checking his pupils when he let out a god awful scream and ran out of the sickbay yelling something about taking his brain."

I silently cursed myself. I had made a note to check on him again, but I didn't get around to it. Now I knew that he definitely was not speaking metaphorically, he had been experiencing auditory hallucinations all along. I sighed.

_This is not going to be easy._

I quietly closed the door to the control room behind me, leaving McCoy, Jim, and Spock behind the massive wall of glass. Trying to make sense to someone who was deep in the throes of psychosis was a risky business. I didn't have to get him to stop decompensating entirely, I just had to get him off the dock and safely into an isolation room in sickbay so McCoy could give him an antipsychotic. That was the grand plan. If I could even lure him off the dock and back into the engine room, I would consider that a win since it was a more confined space and he could more easily be controlled.

"Stay where you are." He commanded, extending a shaking hand toward me. "Don't come any closer."

"Ok." I agreed in a soothing tone. I stayed near the wall next to a loading strap and a stack of crates just beneath the viewing window. "I just came out here to talk."

"I know." He laughed. "You want me to go back inside where the Romulan will get me. Well, it won't happen. I will shoot myself out of this airlock first."

I noticed him hovering near a switch on the wall and I looked back at the men in the control room to see a unanimous sentiment that it was not a good thing. I looked back at Meyers while behind my back I grabbed the loading strap that was attached to the wall and wrapped it around my wrist, just in case. "Meyers, what Romulan are you talking about?" I asked softly.

"Him!" He yelled pointing at McCoy. "He came to remove my brain. He will take it back to Romulus so they can probe it for secret information that even Starfleet doesn't know, but I can't let that happen." McCoy? Was he confusing him with Spock somehow? "Make him stop looking at me! He is trying to read my thoughts. He can't if he can't see me." He pleaded.

I turned to face McCoy and pointed at him through the glass and gestured for him to turn around. He squinted at me incredulously, but I persisted. He threw up his hands and finally complied, but even from behind I could tell he was pouting. Jim said something to him, but the glass was so thick I couldn't hear him. I turned back to Meyers who had resumed his pacing. "There. He can't see you anymore. Can you tell me how you know he is a Romulan? His ears aren't pointed."

"Of course not!" He scoffed. "They cut them off so he could fit in unnoticed, but I know what he really is. I can see it in his eyes, he hates humans. He tries to hide it, but I can see. They sent him because they know about me."

"What kind of information does he want?" I inquired. I knew for a fact McCoy wasn't a Romulan with surgically altered ears nor did Meyers have access to any special set of knowledge, but it is best just to play along with the delusion rather than refute it. If I could get Meyers to trust me, maybe I could end this thing safely.

"No, no." He laughed shaking his head. "I can't tell you. I have been chosen to keep this knowledge. Besides, I know you work for him and he controls you with his mind. If I tell you, you will tell him."

"Fair enough." I conceded. There was no real way I could disconnect McCoy and I. "What are you supposed to do with this information?"

"I have to keep it until a messenger comes." He replied pacing faster.

"Do you know who this messenger is?" I asked.

"Yes, I have already met him." His eyes were becoming vacant and I had a very bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I looked around the empty room. "Is he here now?"

"He says I have to go." He whispered.

"Go where?" I didn't like where this was going at all. This was so much easier in the hospital. If all else failed, he would have been dogpiled by cadre of orderlies and he would have been forcefully injected with a heavy psychotropic to subdue him until the episode went into remission.

I was just trying to think of a way to signal for security when he looked through me with his empty eyes and swung his arm out to activate the switch. In one horrifying instant, the door slid open and he was sucked out into the blackness of space. I was also pulled toward the gaping hole, but the strap caught my wrist and my body jerked hard when it stopped the tremendous force of rapid depressurization. Fans in the dock screeched as they tried to maintain atmospheric pressure, creating a constant sucking vortex against the vacuum that existed beyond the hull of the ship.

I looked up at the window to see McCoy's palms pressed against the glass and the look in his eyes couldn't be described as anything other than sheer terror. My free hand slipped, leaving me hanging by my wrist. My body jerked again when my shoulder slid out of the socket and I looked pleadingly at McCoy, reflexively gasping for air that no longer existed in the room like a fish out of water. I didn't have time to take a breath before Meyers hit the switch and now I was getting close to passing out.

I was fading fast. I could feel the blood vessels in my eyes bursting like mini fireworks and the saliva in my mouth almost boiled. I fought to remain conscious. I looked up again and it looked like Jim was screaming at Spock. It may have been my oxygen starved neurons incorrectly processing what I was seeing, but I watched Spock vault the control panel with speed and grace that a human was simply incapable of. He pushed some buttons on the panel and the blue wall appeared over the missing door.

I instantly fell to the floor with a thud as the ambient pressure was reestablished, at least I assumed. The truth was, I didn't hear it. Nor did I hear the door open or McCoy's voice when he and Jim leaned over me; his lips were moved in absolute silence. I felt so cold, I started shivering. McCoy gently shook my shoulders and I looked back at him, wincing when my dislocated shoulder was moved. He spoke in a slow, exaggerated manner so I could read his lips. He wanted to know if I could hear him. For reasons unknown to me, I used sign language to tell him I was deaf. I hadn't used sign since I learned it in college and it was beyond me how I remembered it. McCoy frowned and said something to Jim who sprinted off. He continued to speak in the direction of the control room and soon Spock came into view and effortlessly scooped me up.

I was very uncomfortable with my circumstances. I didn't want to be carried like a child, yet I was amazed at the ease with which he did it. He was deceptively strong for his size. I let my head fall against his shoulder and took comfort in the extraordinary heat of his body. It was probably because I had been exposed to the extreme cold of space, but he felt abnormally warm. The scent of his skin was unusual, but not at all unpleasant.

Still, I couldn't help but think that I did not deserve such mercy. I tried to talk a patient off the ledge and failed. In his vivid delusions, he almost took me with him. I deserved it. I was almost thankful each time a shock of pain from my shoulder stabbed me like jagged glass, it reminded me of the consequences of my negligence. Never had I lost anyone. I was always too careful to take my eyes off the road and the one time I did, a person lost his life and it was all my fault. Did that in some way make me a murderer? Whether it did or not, that was how it felt.

Spock swiftly rounded the corner to the sickbay and placed me on a biobed. McCoy quickly took over, barking orders at people just out of my field of vision. He shined a light in my eyes and then seemed to do nothing but look down at me with a sense of relieved tension. I read his expression to mean something like he thought I was a goner. I looked down to imply that I wished I had. He scowled at me, but that was how I felt. He looked up and his expression said it was about damn time.

Uhura appeared and smiled tensely at me and it dawned on me that was probably where Jim had sprinted off to. McCoy spoke to her and she signed "Doctor will fix shoulder. Shots first." I closed my eyes and felt the hypo in different locations around my shoulder. I knew exactly what he was doing. I had done sports med in high school and I knew how to reduce a dislocated shoulder. I knew he had given me a muscle relaxer so they wouldn't spasm. I also knew what was coming. He would put a boot in my armpit, grab my wrist and pull until it popped back into place. It was painful, but I didn't care. The mental pain I felt was far worse. I fought not to cry. How could I have let this happen?

He waited a few minutes for the medicine to take effect before doing exactly what I knew he would. I clenched my teeth as I felt bone sliding against bone and the damaged muscles pulling frantically in the opposite direction he was. Finally, there was a decisive thud when the ball again sat firmly in the socket that formed the joint. My arm went through several sensations: burning pain, coldness, and strangely numb seemingly all at once. When I opened my eyes, Uhura signed, "Wiggle fingers." I did as she asked slowly. "Feel numb?" I shook my head no. McCoy poked my hand and fingers in several places to make sure I had full sensation. "Grab." She commanded. McCoy placed his warm hand in mine and I squeezed with as much strength as I had. "Where hurt?" She asked.

_Nowhere he can get to._

I lied and said I didn't hurt, earning an impatient glare from McCoy. "Just want to sleep." I signed.

She conferred with McCoy and stated, "Doctor said you sleep here."

"No." I argued. "Want to sleep in my bed."

She translated for McCoy and replied, "Doctor said yes, but will see you in room." Great. The last thing I wanted was a house call from him. I just wanted to be left alone, but I was surprised he agreed at all.

He and Uhura escorted me to my room and he wouldn't leave until I let him give me a painkiller. Uhura gave me his instructions. He was going to leave a preloaded hypo on my desk next to my bed in case he got tied up and couldn't get back to me. He looked down at me and I felt guilty because I knew he was going against his better judgment in giving me what I wanted. He wanted me in the sickbay where he could hover and obsess, but I wanted to be left alone with my grief. I had never cried in front of anyone and he was the last person I wanted to witness the flood of tears that flowed like a bursting dam the moment he turned his back and left. The sobbing continued until I had no more strength and fell into a deep and fitful sleep.


	24. Chapter 24 You are Not Alone

**Chapter 24- You are Not Alone**

He did come back. Several times. Each time, he frowned down at the hypo on my desk in the exact same location he had left it. My whole body hurt from being pulled by the incredible force the vortex created, but I could tolerate it- so long as I didn't move. Maybe that was what disturbed him most, the gun hadn't moved but I didn't either. On this particular visit, he brought a PADD with him in message mode since the previous times he came he tried speaking, but I couldn't force myself to concentrate enough to read his lips. I could have, I just didn't want to.

He dangled the PADD in front of my face so I could read it. "NOT TAKING MEDS?" I smiled faintly when I noticed he made a frowning emoticon at the end. Only he could scowl in person as well as electronically, his sour mood seemed to translate across all media formats.

I took the device from him and tried not to wince when my muscles screamed at the effort. "HATE DRUGS. YOU KNOW THAT."

He read it and nodded sadly. He quickly typed his response. "WON'T MAKE YOU. HEARING WILL BE OK IN A FEW DAYS- PROMISE."

I was relieved. Being closed off from the outside world was almost more than I could bear. It left me with no other option than to listen to my own internal voice, which as of late had not been too kind. "NOT SLEEPING! WHY?!" I demanded. He read it and looked at me in confusion. I made a circular gesture around my face and pointed at him. He looked exhausted; the fine lines in his face were carved deep and he wore shadows under his eyes. I bit back an embarrassed smile when I realized that with the combination of gestures I used, I had just told him he was handsome in sign. But that was pure coincidence and I reminded myself that he didn't know sign language anyway, so he thankfully remained oblivious to the double entendre.

"BUSY." Was all he said with an unapologetic shrug. I narrowed my eyes at him in irritation. He was prone to giving short, vague answers when he thought I wouldn't like what he had to say.

"…DOING WHAT?" I prodded.

He typed in his reply. "YOU SHOULD REST NOW. BE BACK LATER." His eyes looked sad when he turned to go and for the first time since his almost hourly invasions began, I really didn't want him to.

I didn't know which was worse, lying in bed stiff as a board or moving around. Both seemed to make my muscles ache with equal intensity. I decided to take a very long, very hot shower. My skin stung with the heat, but I found that with one lost sensory modality I sought out stimulus by other means just to make sure I still existed.

While normally I would have rather enjoyed the pleasurable feeling of being very warm and clean, all I could think about was what happened and what I could have done differently to save his life. No matter how I rationalized it as the unfortunate consequence of unchecked hallucinations, or perhaps his own lucid will not to have to live with his symptoms, no matter the explanation- it always came back to me. He was my responsibility and I failed to protect him. There was no other way around it. My negligence caused his death and that was something I had to live with.

Beyond having the blood of another person on my hands which could never be washed away, what made my heart sink with the weight of sadness was the thought that I was no longer suited for my job. I wouldn't blame Jim or even McCoy if he recommended firing me, there was no excuse for a mistake like that. I had come to love my job and the people I worked with, but it was clear I could no longer be trusted to carry out my duties. My job was my very identity and I tried to do it with the highest sense of professionalism I could manage. In the end, it wasn't enough and I was once again facing an uncertain future.

I drug myself out of the shower feeling more miserable than I went in. The heat did make my muscles feel better, but I knew the relief would be temporary. I slowly and painfully got dressed. McCoy had repaired my shoulder for the most part, only the occasional sharp pain remained when I overdid it and I was glad I wasn't further hampered by having it in a sling. Being deaf, feeling completely inadequate as a professional, and having a useless appendage strapped to my body would have simply been too much. When I got out of the mirror I nearly screamed when I looked in the mirror. I remembered feeling the blood vessels burst in my eyes and now the whites were a god awful opaque red where the excess blood had pooled. I looked like some demon out of a B movie. McCoy could have warned me about that…

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement. I turned my head to see Pavel cautiously ducking his head in my room from the open door. Of course I couldn't hear the chime to let me know he was there. When he was certain I was descent, he gave a small wave and his soft smile. I smiled back, glad to see him even in my less than presentable condition. I knew that although he was young, he would pretend not to notice to make me feel comfortable because that was how he was. I immediately felt relaxed around his gentle, unassuming presence. He smiled shyly and handed me yet another PADD that from the looks of it had been programmed with messages from members of the crew.

Before I could respond, he pointed to his wrist and made a gesture to mimic eating. It must be dinner time. I pointed at my eyes and shook my head no. He seemed to understand, and gestured for me to sit on the bed. Intrigued, I did as he requested and watched in amusement as he moved my desk in front of me like a table and then made dinner with the replicator. I smiled when he placed a tray of tomato soup and grilled cheese in front of me. I wanted to laugh, but I couldn't tell how loud I was. I couldn't believe he remembered exactly what I had the first time I met him! But then again, McCoy did tear Jim a new asshole in front of everyone against Pavel's warnings to leave him alone, that kind of thing was difficult to forget because it was so funny. I could still remember the look on Sulu's face as he tried so hard not to laugh at the table. Pavel chose a chicken dish for himself and sat opposite me. Together we ate our dinner in a comfortable silence that would have existed even if I could hear.

That was the beautiful thing about him, and I remembered previous encounters with him when that was also the case. He may have endured a lot of good natured heckling from his coworkers for being so young and presumably naive, but his secret was an unusual ability to know and understand the world in detail with a quiet strength that belied his true nature. He was indeed quite the sneaky Russian, but at that moment there was no one else I would rather have dinner with. Even if he could, I knew he wouldn't be one to ask about what happened or try to make me feel better just so he could. He was content to just be and that kind of accepting stillness was hard to find in another.

Like a gentleman, he cleared the table and returned from the replicator with a deck of cards. He didn't ask if I wanted to play and judging by the number of cards he dealt, I assumed we were playing poker. I dutifully picked up my allotment and tried to remember the impromptu lesson he and Sulu gave me the night I ended up sleeping in his room because Uhura had gone off to the desert with Spock, but I didn't know that then. We played for a long time, and although it didn't seem like he was cheating, he won almost every time. Not that it mattered, we weren't playing for money.

When he decided to turn in for the night, I made a series of gestures to ask why he wasn't fencing with Sulu. He caught on pretty fast and simply shrugged and gave a dismissive wave. I bowed slightly to him to thank him and he smiled. I waved goodbye to him and smiled to myself when the door closed. I didn't know how much he had been told about what happened, but it didn't seem to change him a bit. If he knew how I had screwed up, he didn't let it show.

I tried to move my desk back, but I was too sore to exert any real force. As much as I hated it, I would have to wait for McCoy to come back and help. I really resented feeling like a proverbial damsel in distress, it was never who I was and it was a serious affront to my sense of fierce independence. However, it was the reality of the situation and I had to swallow it no matter how bitter the medicine. I laid on the bed and waited.

When he did show up, he looked dead on his feet and I felt sorry for him. I didn't know what he was up to, but it was clearly taking a toll on him. I started to get up to help him move my desk, but he motioned for me to stay where I was and manhandled it back into place all by himself. He pulled out his PADD and wearily typed, "LONG DAY. BE OK UNTIL TOMMORROW?"

I nodded yes and asked, "CAN YOU FIX MY EYES? EEEK!"

He smiled and answered, "CAN. WILL BE BLIND A FEW HOURS." He looked at me apologetically and I contemplated the thought of being deaf and blind at the same time. Well, if Helen Keller could do it for a lifetime, then I could manage a few hours.

"OK. TOMORROW. YOU SLEEP NOW!" I demanded with a small smile.

He smirked. "STILL BOSSY I SEE."

He kept his PADD and leaned against my desk, folding his arms across his chest. His smile faded and his mood became somber. He gave me a look that wanted to know if I was ok. He wasn't wondering about my health and I found it touching in a way that he chose to communicate in our own personal system that eerily approached telepathy at times. His eyes were heavy with sadness and it was only then that I realized that he, certainly more so out of any other person on this ship, understood what I was going through. He knew what it was to hold a life in his hands and watch them slip away despite everything he could do. He knew what the anguish and tortuous self blame felt like when you questioned your own competency. If you couldn't do your job, what was your ultimate purpose for existence since the two were so intimately entwined?

It had only happened a few times in my life, but once in awhile the planets align and when you look into a person's eyes you were able to see them in a whole new light. When that kind of thing happened, all you could do was stand in awe and pray the beautiful moment never passed. And so it was with McCoy. In one amazing instant, an entirely different man leaned against my desk from the one I knew and I couldn't pull myself away from his eyes- the now open windows to his soul.

The difference was subtle; he was still the same cranky doctor who deep down was fiercely loyal to those he cared about, but it was a more complete understanding of him in his entirety that was breathtaking. The amount of pain he had suffered at the hands of those he let get too close and betrayed his trust was evident, but the depth of his caring for his friends and the lengths to which he would go to keep them safe was endearing.

Surely he could see it on my face that I was now privy to at least some of his secrets, but he held my gaze steadily without flinching. I didn't know if he knew what I saw. Maybe he wanted it to happen, I didn't know. But what left me warm even after he departed was the certain knowledge that I was now in his inner circle of those to be protected. No matter what happened, I knew he would always have my back and I smiled at getting a small taste of what Jim described during his academy days. "_He is a tough bastard, but when the chips are down there isn't another fucking person I would want in my corner_." He once told me. Now I was better able to understand the seemingly unbreakable bond between the two and Jim's uncanny ability to push him to limits that the average person would be annihilated for.

I got up to change into my pajamas when I saw it. At some point, McCoy used sleight of hand to place a photograph on my desk. I smiled when I picked it up and looked at it. It was the one that Pavel had taken of us at Union Station in Chicago when we arrived. Pavel and I were huddled together and grinning like idiots while McCoy, pale and groggy, scowled sideways at Pavel. I remembered how awful that trip was for him; he was so hungover and sick from partying the night before, yet he was beholden by Jim to payback a lost bet. I turned it over to see a simple message printed in McCoy's sloppy handwriting: You are not alone.

_Not anymore._


	25. Chapter 25 The Company You Keep

**Chapter 25- The Company You Keep**

I got up early and headed for deck 5. There was nothing wrong with my voice, I could talk but I chose not to because I couldn't tell how loud I was without the ability to hear aside from the dull reverberation within my own skull. Apparently, the lift understood me because I was deposited neatly at my desired destination. On the way down the hall, I wondered how people who were truly hearing impaired or blind got around since it didn't appear that the ship in any way complied with the Americans With Disabilities Act. Perhaps Starfleet simply didn't allow people with disabilities join, although that seemed contrary to the spirit of the day where everyone had something to contribute. McCoy was not in yet, so I got my usual coffee and sat at my desk and read the PADD that Pavel had delivered the night before while I could still see. I smiled as I scrolled through the entries.

"Keep your head up, girl. See you at lunch even if I have to come drag you. –Love Uhura"

"I know that you would have saved him if there was any way possible, which tells me that there was no way possible. Sometimes things don't work out the way we want them to, but if I know you (and I would like to think I do) it wasn't for lack of trying. The Captain says I am taking too long- it is a message, not an essay. So I will have to go for now, but I look forward to seeing you on the floor again. I enjoy watching you improve. Soon you will beat Chekov! Ok, Captain is yelling at me now, he wants to know if I am writing a love letter! I still believe in you. –Sulu"

"Spock." I cracked up. He wasn't one to sign a sympathy card even if it was virtual, and there was no way he was going to type in something sappy. I had to respect him for that.

"Doc! Tomorrow is Saturday and you know what that means! Scotty and I will be at your quarters at 2000 for movie night- no excuses! Scotty figured out how to make the words show up on the screen so you can watch, well, read…or whatever. Sulu is giving me shit while I am trying to type. I will have to make him do push-ups until he dies or something. Just be there damn it.- Jim"

"Damn it! I'm a doctor, not a Hallmark card!" I didn't even need to see who that was from.

"So a lass is walking down the lane and she sees a lad sleeping under a tree wearing a kilt. She always wondered what Scotts wore under a kilt, so she sneaks up to him and takes a peek. Sure enough, he is bare as bones! She giggled and took the ribbon out of her hair and tied it around his boaby and skips off. When he wakes up, he looks down and says, 'I don't know where ya got off to, but I see ya won Best In Show!' –Scotty"

I couldn't help it, I laughed and I didn't care how loud I was or who heard me. McCoy rounded the corner with an amused look on his face. He raised his eyebrows at me and I showed him the PADD. He read it and had a laugh as well before tossing it on his desk and motioning for me to follow him.

Like a docile creature, I laid on the biobed still as could be while he went to work prying open each eye and passing a scanner over it again and again. With each pass, my vision became a little more blurry until all I could make out were shadows. It didn't hurt, but I hated having my eyes messed with, even if he was doing as I had asked. When he was finished, he held me by the shoulders while I sat up so he could cover my eyes and wrap a band of gauze around my head to hold it in place. I laid back down and began the mental countdown.

At first, everything was a void of stillness except the beating of my own heart. It was sort of peaceful in a way. It wasn't long before my thoughts kicked into overdrive to fill the silence. Isang songs, did some light math, and even tried to name all 50 states before the circumstances of my unique environment wore off and I began to think about my life in a very analytical way as I was prone to do when I was uneasy.

I thought about how unhappy I was as a child. My family was poor, but somehow managed to move several times from state to state, but it was never anywhere interesting. As a result, I never really had friends growing up- there simply wasn't enough time and as I got older I just decided it wasn't worth the effort anyway. Not that I didn't try, at least at first. But I quickly realized that the other kids didn't want to know me; I didn't wear all the latest clothes. What I most often wore was what you might call vintage, but really they were items that belonged to my mother or sometimes even my older brother that had been modified to loosely fit because my parents couldn't afford to buy new clothes. They hardly had enough to have food on the table every day. I remembered enduring winters without heat, and sometimes we would have to go without electricity or running water when we couldn't pay the bills. It still astounded me that this was not something that people ever thought about dealing with these days.

But it was more than that, I was somewhat precocious as a child. I was reading five levels ahead of my own grade and remembered being very bored in school. It was probably because of this that I couldn't really relate to anyone, even though I felt desperately lonely for human friendship. While everyone else socialized and passed notes among themselves, I was left on the outside looking in. Perhaps this was where I learned to be so in tune with people. If I couldn't be in the group, I could feel that I was if I could figure out what it was like for each member. I stopped for a moment to ponder how similar that made me to Pavel. I thought back to the trip to Chicago when he told me about his life in Russia and how difficult it was to scratch out an existence in the cold forest without a father. He had much the same experience with his classmates as I did. Maybe that was why I felt him to be so comfortable without really realizing it.

I was starting to think that perhaps a lot of my sense of loneliness had to do with me. Through most of my adult life I have had a string of acquaintances and coworkers, but a precious select few that I would call friends. Why was that? What was I afraid of? Even McCoy, who had shown more mercy than he should have had the good sense to was being kept at a safe distance. I swallowed and had to face the ugly truth: because of my job. People wouldn't respect me if they really knew me. I had to make them believe I was bordering on perfect to maintain my professionalism when all the while I was asking them to bear their souls to me. I was struck by the unfairness of it all. Like the sword of Excalibur, mine was a position of power and those who can wield the sword must be pure.

I might have held McCoy at arm's length, but he was afforded a special place within my inner circle as well. Everyone else got little glimpses of who I really was as I saw fit, but McCoy had a backstage pass only because he was in a similar position to me and could probably understand my foibles without thinking less of me. When it came down to it, we were almost mirror images of each other. On the surface we were very distinct, but in our inner worlds we both had the same restrictive standards and slavish devotion to our patients.

That was really what was at the core of all this: I was constantly engaged in a game of impression management with everyone. It was ugly, but it was the bare truth. To keep my position and a sense of authority, it was necessary to shut people out and deny myself the very contact I still craved. I could share a dirty joke with Scotty, get knocked on my ass by Sulu and Spock, have lunch with Uhura, and enjoy quiet solitude with Chekov, but that was all I could allow myself. I had to take pleasure in the small interactions we did have and maintain my distance.

The thought of being alone was distressing. In my previous life I was married to someone who would at least always be there. I couldn't have engaged in sustained impression management with him, that kind of stamina was just not possible if the scratches on my wedding band were any indication of how long we were together. Now he was gone and I had no one to go home to at night and complain about my day while wearing sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt. As it stood, only the ship's computer knew how epically horrible I was at directions.

Suddenly I began to feel a little anxious. The sensory deprivation was becoming harder to endure and although I knew that no matter the time, someone was always present in the sickbay, I felt absolutely alone. I took deep breaths and tried to calm down by telling myself that it was ridiculous to think I was abandoned, that this would all be over in no time and that any attempt to leave the bed would certainly be met with failure if not McCoy's wrath- most likely both. I jumped slightly when I felt a warm hand on mine and instantly I knew it was McCoy, somehow I just knew. The heart monitor no doubt drew his attention and I felt a little betrayed by the technology. Why did it have to be so good at what it did?! I also felt slightly embarrassed at my inability to control the symptoms of anxiety. He must have thought I was weak not to be able to hack my situation any longer because I felt cold metal against my neck and I knew what was coming.

When I woke up, the gauze had been removed from my eyes, and I blinked several times, but everything was still blurry. I sat up and rubbed them, but two hands grasped my wrists and pulled them away. I could just make out a blue shirt and parted dark hair. I sat there dumbly, realizing that if I couldn't properly see, that pretty well ended all possible forms of communication. He pushed me back down and again pulled my eyelids apart. I was not prepared for him to put drops in them and I almost screamed.

Of all my stupid hang-ups, eye drops were the worst. I hated having my eyes messed with, but eye drops almost made me come out of my skull and no matter how hard I thought about it, I couldn't come up with a rationalization based in any kind of reality for it. I tried hard not to buck and fight him, but I was sure I whimpered at least once. Thank God I couldn't see his face well enough to witness the disgusted squint he was probably wearing or hear the sarcastic remark that slipped past his lips. I blinked rapidly against the newly formed oceans that lie over my eyes until slowly, my vision cleared and I saw him leaning over me, scowling. I gave him an embarrassed, apologetic look and his face relaxed into a soft smirk.

I instinctively turned my head when I heard something to my right. A nurse had dropped a tray of surgical instruments and while that sort of slip up would earn a person cleaning duty for a week as well as a loud lecture about safety, McCoy seemed pleased. It was muffled compared to the thunderous clang it should have made, but it was something.

McCoy took his sweet time discharging me, and I knew better than to simply get up and leave. No one, and I do mean no one, ever walked out on him and that included me. I got back to my quarters in time to meet Pavel at my door. He had just got off duty and it was dinner time. Even though a quick check of my eyes revealed McCoy's near perfect patch job, I opted for another dinner in with Pavel, which hilariously consisted of tomato soup and grilled cheese yet again.

Our after dinner card game was cut short when Jim and Scotty showed up just as he said they would in his message. Jim said something to Pavel and he turned red, but all I could hear was his deep voice- I couldn't make out any words. I again bowed to Pavel and followed them to the lower decks where we watched our movies. Tonight's selection was "The Full Monty" and I was grateful for the closed captioning since I often found thick accents hard to decipher. Watching the hodgepodge of average English men dance like Chippendales never failed to make me laugh, nor did Scotty's impression of them when he danced lasciviously with a barstool during the closing number while Jim folded a napkin as though it were a dollar bill and stuffed it in his waistband for his efforts.

I went to bed that night rethinking my philosophy. The messages on the PADD were nice, but it was the way in which the crew interacted that made the difference. Pavel could have done any number of things, including fence with his best friend, but he chose to spend time with me having dinner and playing cards. Jim and Scotty chose a movie that they knew I would like even if it wasn't their type because they wanted me to cheer up. McCoy was good at small surprises because he knew that it was the little things that made me smile.

If I was worried about my professionalism, all I need do was think back on all I had become privy to; all of the undercurrents that flowed and connected the members of the crew. The revenge game between Chekov and McCoy. McCoy's terrorizing Jim with the hypo. Jim's stuffing napkins in Scotty's pants like he was a $2 crack whore. Scotty's drinking, dancing and carousing with other people's girlfriends. The dirty jokes that he and I shared. It all ran together in an intertwined tangled mess of relationships that bound us all together to make us all a little more than just colleagues. Maybe, just this once things could be different. Maybe I could summon up the courage to step out of the shadows and join them since it seemed they were inviting me, each in their own way.


	26. Chapter 26 Absolution

**Chapter 26- Absolution**

By the next day my hearing had improved enough that I could understand people if they yelled at me. Great for me, not so much for McCoy who found himself treating a rash of sore throats. I found the sound of familiar voices exhilarating. It was funny how quickly the brain accommodates for a lost function- I found that I often couldn't recall the exact quality of a person's voice in the absence of auditory input. Thus, I struggled to remember the exact tone and pitch that individuals like Chekov spoke in. When I thought about it, all I could come up with was a generic male voice in a comically exaggerated Russian accent. Yet I knew that once I regained my hearing, I could pick his voice out of 100 Russian men without difficulty, proving once more that your brain isn't always your best friend.

Although my hearing was getting better, it was still impractical for me to see patients when they had to scream their deepest secrets so I could hear. It created some serious problems for confidentiality, so I milled about the ship aimlessly. It didn't really matter if I got lost. While wandering the decks, I walked down the halls of 3 and briefly paused at McCoy's door. I knew he was in the sickbay for his shift, but I still felt I was somehow impinging on his personal space. I smiled when I thought about how uncomfortable we were when Jim took his guests on board. That was a long two days when he and I ended up conveniently used the room in shifts to avoid having to be there at the same time. I wondered how Jim planned to make it up to him…

I jumped slightly when I felt a very warm hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Spock's serene face staring back. His eyes were unreadable and I found myself wishing I hadn't told him how to close himself off to me. His lips moved, but all I could hear was the low murmur of his voice. I tried to read his lips, but all I got was "I", either "startle" or "turtle", and "me." Did he just call me a turtle? Perhaps understanding that I couldn't comprehend him, he motioned for me to follow him to his room.

The ambiance was something fast approaching Hell. His room was so incredibly hot I wondered how his bed sheets didn't catch on fire. He motioned for me enter and I reluctantly did, wondering how long I could last before heat stroke set in. I stood by his desk while he retrieved a PADD and typed. All he had to do was talk loudly, but then again he wouldn't be caught dead raising his voice no matter the reason. It was simply too undignified. While he typed, I casually looked around. I smirked when I spotted the once again solved Rubik's cube sitting perfectly aligned with the angles of the desk by my arm. I wondered how long it took him to solve it after I reshuffled it when we arrived in San Francisco. He seemed to be taking a long time, so I surreptitiously shifted my weight to block his view and seized the cube behind my back to twist it into a mess again. I got several turns in before he handed me the PADD for inspection.

"ACCORDING TO STARFLEET REGULATION 6379.87 REGARDING LOSS OF COLLATERAL TO STARFLEET PROPERTY OR PERSONEL, A REVIEW MUST BE CONDUCTED BY THE SENIOR OFFICERS OF THE SHIP WITHIN 48 HOURS OF THE EVENT. ALL RESPONSIBLE PARTIES WILL ASSEMBLE WITHIN THIS TIME TO GIVE FULL ACCOUNT OF THE NATURE OF THE EVENT AND ACTIONS TAKEN TO PREVENT IT. AFTER THE STATEMENTS HAVE BEEN RECORDED, THE SENIOR OFFICERS WILL REVIEW THE EVIDENCE TO DETERMINE IF DICIPLINARY ACTION IS REQUIRED. IF IT IS DETERMINED THAT THE RESPONSIBLE PARTIES WERE GROSSLY NEGLEGENT, THE SENIOR OFFICERS WILL RECOMMEND APPROPRITE SANCTIONS AND WILL BE RESPONSIBLE FOR CARRYING THEM OUT. THE RESPONSIBLE PARTIES MAY APPEAL THE DECISION TO STARFLEET WITHIN 7 EARTH DAYS BY FILING A GRIEVANCE. IF A GRIEVANCE IS FILED, ACTION WILL BE HALTED UNTIL A RULING CAN BE ISSUED BY A PANEL CONSISTING OF STARFLEET SENOIR OFFICCIALS. THIS RULING CANNOT BE APPEALED. THE RESPONSIBLE PARTIES AGREE THAT THE PANEL'S RULING IS FINAL. DOCTOR, WE HAVE EXACTLY 3 HOURS LEFT TO CONFORM TO THIS REGULATION. PLEASE FOLLOW ME TO THE BRIDGE TO GIVE YOUR STATEMENT."

I handed the PADD back to him in a daze. No wonder he didn't want to yell all that. He gestured for me to wait one moment and he walked away toward his bathroom. I took the opportunity to get a few more quick twists in before he returned. I was thankful I had a hard time hearing, not that he would have said another word to me until we got to the bridge. It was probably the most tense ride I ever had, no thanks to Spock's overly austere formality. This was it. I was getting fired.

We exited onto the bridge and I was led to the conference room where McCoy and Jim sat waiting. I took a seat as my stomach sank. Jim looked incredibly comfortable with his feet kicked up on the chair next to him. McCoy sat slumped in his, twisting back and forth in boredom. Spock took a seat by McCoy, straight and proper as always.

"So, Dr. Collins." Jim began. "No doubt Spock has explained to you why you are here. Do you understand what is about to happen?" Not entirely, but I nodded to indicate I did. "Great. We will make this quick and painless. Normally this would get drug out with sworn statements and blah blah, but Bones here says you aren't medically capable of giving a statement 'cause of your hearing thing." He gestured to his ears and smirked. He seemed way too amused by this.

I glanced over at McCoy who was now leaning forward on the table. "Look, Collins, we heard everything. The control room has an intercom. All three of us were there, so there is no need to rehash it all over again." He looked over at Spock who was speaking and shook his head in aggravation. "Spock says that it appears that you acted within the parameters…damn it! You did what you were supposed to." Spock seemed to take exception to McCoy's less than faithful translation, by he blew his green colleague off with a wave as he sat back in his chair.

"So what it all means is we don't think you were responsible. What happened was a regrettable accident, but nothing more. However, we are going to place you on a leave under Bones' supervision until he determines you can go back to work. At some point the two of you need to conduct a debriefing about this, but I will let you two work it out." Jim declared leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head. "Did we have any other business, gentlemen?" McCoy and Spock indicated they were done, so Jim sat up and slapped the desk. "Meeting adjourned! Collins, thanks for coming and I look forward to having you back on duty." He said with his lopsided smile that made him endearingly quirky.

As I was leaving, Jim placed his hand on my back and steered me to the lift. After we descended a little, he smiled apologetically and said, "I can't talk loud enough for you to hear me without Spock also listening in. His damn hearing is too good." Spock. If he knew the whole time what the outcome was, why did he act so proper as if I were being court marshaled? He could have at least dropped a hint or something… That only made me more determined to beat him at our next lesson. We got off on deck 2 and I just knew where we were going. Sure enough, the bar was open for business the moment Jim walked in.

"I know Bones will go over all this," he said making my drink in the replicator, "but I have to know for myself." He gave me my drink and his blue eyes hardened slightly. "What went through your mind the moment Meyers hit the door switch?"

I sat there stunned. Why would he want to know such a thing? I was completely at a loss because I couldn't remember what exactly I thought at that moment. After concentrating on that very uncomfortable exchange, I swallowed and replied, "Probably that I had failed him. That I would have given anything in the world to somehow pull him back into the ship. That there was something else I could have said that may have worked better, I guess."

He studied me carefully and quietly asked, "You never once thought of yourself?"

"No," I admitted, "I grabbed that strap when I first got out there, so I knew I was safe."

"You didn't know that." He challenged. "That strap could have came loose. Hell, your hand might have got torn off. You didn't know what would happen."

"Ok, I guess not." I agreed with a shrug. "At least not with any degree of certainty, but not many decisions come with any kind of guarantee. I thought it was a risk worth taking."

"Exactly." He stated emphatically. "Collins, I am sorry about what happened. I know it sucks, believe me, I know. This job is great most times, but imagine having 20-30 Meyers at one time. That is what happens to me every time we engage an enemy." There was a sense of hopelessness in his voice that I found touching. He really did care about his crew. "I tell you what's worse. You and Bones try to fix people. When people die on you it is just the force of nature. But Spock and I? We order people to their deaths. It is a fucking nightmare to know that. Spock and I send them to the jaws of death while you and Bones try to pull them back like it is some kind of sick goddamn game of tug-o-war."

"Jim, these people went into service knowing that it was a possibility. If you were responsible for the deaths of civilians, that would be different." I responded. "And at any rate, it is not as though you are keen on fighting. I know you do it only when you have no choice. You would rather try anything, no matter how remote the chance of success if it means saving your crew."

He twirled his bottle on the counter. "Yeah, that's the part Sock doesn't get with all his probabilities and equations. You just know if something will work or not and if you see a break in the clouds, you have to go for it before it disappears." His smile returned, but it held the quality of desperation. "I guess I just wanted to know if it would ever get any easier."

I felt sorry for him if he was looking to me for absolution. I simply didn't have that kind of power. "Would you really want to?" I asked rhetorically. "Would you ever want to get used to the idea of death as acceptable? I don't." I stated. "I never want to forget this moment or who Meyers was as a person because it reminds me of my purpose. It makes me fight that much harder for the next person. I think McCoy would tell you the same thing. It doesn't get any easier, no matter the cause."

He smiled down at the counter and sighed, "Bonsey." He spun his bottle a few times before looking back up at me with the same intensity he used when in war. "I am just going to lay it out right here, right now and I don't care what you think about it." He stated placing his hands on the counter with a dead serious tone. "Bones is probably the only man I have ever called a friend in my entire miserable life. I know I have done a lot of rotten shit to him, more than he probably deserves. That doesn't make me a very good friend, but God knows I try because no one has ever given a damn about me like he does. It is as his friend that I have to say this. I can see that the two of you are getting quite cozy, but hey! That's cool." He threw his hands up in the air in mock submission. "There are no hard and fast rules against fraternization, so I don't say anything when people hook up. The only thing I ask is that it not interfere with duties. But…" He leaned on the counter and lowered his voice, "Bones is the best damn friend a person could have. He has issues, but he is a good man who has been fucked over too many times. So I am telling you, if you are even thinking about starting something with him you had better have his best interest in mind at all times. He deserves to be happy for once after all he's been through."

I sat quietly and listened to his speech, interested in the mutual devotion the two felt for each other. When he was finished, I smiled and replied, "McCoy and I are very good friends, but I fully agree with your assessment of him. I do care for him as a close friend, so I think that we are both on the same page in wanting happiness for him."

Jim regarded me carefully for a moment before raising his bottle in a toast. "Then to our good friend Bones. May we find a way to make him happy or die trying." I brushed my glass against his bottle and concurred.


	27. Chapter 27 Disturbances

**A/N: OK- Reposted so I could finally throw all you dogs the love bone you have been begging for even if it is a little rotten. Cheers!**

**Chapter 27- Disturbances**

It took another two days for my hearing to fully return, and I savored every human voice I listened to. From the soft murmuring of two people talking as they passed in the hall to Chekov's tortured announcements, I listened to the pitch and cadence as though it were the first time. Even McCoy raining hellfire down on a poor intern never sounded sweeter.

McCoy and I conducted our mandatory briefing over morning coffee and it was almost too brief to even be considered polite conversation. If Spock knew, he would have been mortified in the most dignified manner he could pull off. The entire conversation went something like:

McCoy: So we have to get this over. Is there anything you would have done differently?

Me: I would have succeeded.

McCoy: No shit. Do you feel you can do your job?

Me: I guess.

McCoy: Then get off your ass and get to work. You aren't paid to sit there, drink coffee, and be a pain in my ass.

Me: You know you love it. Admit it, you missed me.

McCoy: Don't nag me, woman. (insert sly smile)

It was almost a relief to fall back into the lunch routine with Uhura. She gave me an amused look when I put my tray down across from hers. God so help me, if she was going to start on her McCoy and I delusion again…. She laughed. "You should have seen Spock this morning. He brought that stupid cube thing you gave him to the bridge today. He was all sullen like someone spit in his Cheerios, but he wouldn't talk about it. In fact, he didn't say a word all morning. He just stood there, staring at it like it was his mortal enemy. Somehow it got all mixed up again and Jim swore repeatedly he didn't do it."

_Take that, Spock. _

The more I thought about it, the more starting a revenge game with Spock seemed like lunacy. I smiled lightly and changed the subject. "So did you ever make anything out from that scroll Jim found?"

She hurried to finish the bite she was working on and perked up. "I did!" She exclaimed swallowing quickly. "The writing was primitive, but it was an account of warrior women that descended from the stars called the Aurelians. The scroll said the women were led by a queen named Octavia and she had guards of men-women, some of which led the armies. The armies destroyed the towns and killed all men, young and old, except a few who would serve the queen. The women were spared and forced to join the armies and the female children were taken to be trained as warriors."

"Men-women?" I asked raising my eyebrows.

"That was the literal translation." She explained. "I would guess it means women who act like men? I am not really sure. As I said, the writing was primitive. Anyway, you can imagine what fun Jim had with that. 'Oh, take me queen! I will be your slave!" She imitated in a deep voice.

"You know, deep down I think he would love to have a dominatrix. I think he would love to be forced to lick a woman's boot." I smiled.

"Don't I know it." She muttered. There was something to her comment, but I didn't get a chance to explore it further due to Chekov joining us.

"So have you heard?" He asked excitedly as he sat down. "Ve have been diwerted to a new course. There is a disturbance on a nearby planet and Starfleet vants us to observe."

"What kind of disturbance?" I asked intrigued.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Not sure. Ve haven't made contact with the civilization yet, so Satrfleet just vants us to vatch. Preliminary scans show it to be barely habitable, but it seems there are humanoid life forms present. Ve should be there by tomorrow."

Uhura raised her eyebrows and stabbed her salad. "Should be interesting, but I guess that is our mission- to seek out new civilizations."

"Yes!" He eagerly agreed rubbing his hands together. "This is vhy I joined Starfleet. I hope the Captain vill let me go this time if we get orders. Sulu always gets to go."

"Because he outranks you." Uhura observed. "But the Captain is reasonable. Tell him you want to go and he might let you."

"Do you get to go on away missions, Uhura?" I inquired.

"Probably as much as you." She laughed. "I guess we both have gatekeepers if you know what I mean." I gave her a knowing smile. McCoy had to approve of my trips, but who was watching her? Was Spock still keeping her on the ship out of concern? The only other person it could be was Jim….

"So, Dr. Collins, do you feel vell enough to fence vith us again?" Pavel asked turning his blue eyes to me.

"Maybe tomorrow." I answered. "I am a little stiff, so you guys will have to have mercy."

Chekov chuckled and said, "Sulu shows no mercy. You know that." Yes, indeed I did know.

I went back to my quarters after dinner and was surprised by my door chime at a fairly late hour. I opened it to see McCoy leaning against the doorframe holding a bottle of whiskey. Not that I needed to see the bottle, I could smell it heavy on his breath when he exhaled. It almost made my eyes water. Hesitantly, I invited him in.

He plopped down in the chair at my desk and kicked his feet up. I tried not to stare, but he looked like hell. I had seen him drink before. A lot. But he was clearly drunk this time and I wondered how he was going to make it to work in the morning. He lazily shifted his red eyes in my direction and sighed, "She did it. It's all fucking over." He threw his free hand up in exasperation while he used the other to tip the bottle to his lips.

I sat on the bed across from him and clarified, "Your wife?"

"My _ex _wife, mind you." He slurred pointing at me. The remaining alcohol swished noisily in the bottle. "I am no longer legally a father to my own child. How can some guy in a black dress make that kind of decision?" He asked. "Fuck him. And her and the bastard she is riding."

"I'm sorry, McCoy." I whispered.

"Yeah, yeah. You and everybody but her." He growled. "I get it, I do. If she hates me I can handle that. If she wants to suck me dry like some damn spider that eats it's mate after sex, I can do that. I let her take _everything_, I didn't even fight her. Just signed my whole damn life away and all I asked was to see my little girl. That was the _only_ fucking thing I wanted because she was my entire life, the only good thing that came from being with the Ice Queen. And now this? Can a woman really hate someone like that? I mean, Christ. I know I wasn't the perfect man, but it wasn't like I ever beat her or anything, I gave her whatever she wanted, or tried to at least. Her fucking manifesto of demands was too long for any one man to complete. Seriously, I couldn't be in the OR making money for her to spend and be at home with her too."

"It sounds like you were caught in a hopeless situation." I said soothingly. "It is clear that neither of you were happy. She wanted more than it was possible for you to give, so in that respect it is a good thing that the marriage ended. But now there is the question of your daughter." He seemed to have a couple issues going all at once and I thought it helpful to keep them separate and therefore manageable before it seemed overwhelming. "Will you still be able to contest the decision when you return?"

"Damn straight I will." He vowed finishing off the bottle. "That soul sucking harpy won't keep me from my baby girl. I don't care what any man wearing a dress says."

"Even if Jo told the judge that she didn't want to see you, she won't always feel that way. I have never met her, but if the two of you were as close as you say you were, it won't be long before she will want her daddy again. She has some big changes coming up."

He rolled his eyes and grumbled, "Don't remind me."

"It will be just as difficult for her." I laughed. "But when that happens, her mood will become more mercurial and there will be times, especially when her step father makes her angry, she will come running to you. No judge will be able to tell her how to feel then."

"If she's anything like me she will kick him square in the balls if he pisses her off." He chuckled. "The bastard would deserve it. To think he looked me in the eye all the time he was fucking my wife. That takes some kind of nerve."

"You know this man?" I asked surprised.

"Know him? He was my boss at the hospital- Chief of Surgery. I always wondered why I always seemed to get stuck doing appendectomies and gall bladder removals at 3:00 in the morning on weekends. Now I know. While I was wrist deep in someone's gut, he was dick deep in my wife." He smiled at his own joke, which was encouraging.

"You know, McCoy, I am starting to think that it isn't Jim with the bad luck- it is you." I laughed.

"Seems so." He agreed with a frown.

"Speaking of Jim, do you know anything about these new orders?" I inquired to change the subject while he was still on a good note.

He scoffed and said, "Something about a riot and we are just supposed to watch. Starfleet must be out of their damn minds to tell Jim to sit and watch. It won't be long 'till he finds some excuse to get us all drug in and then the shit will really hit the fan as it always does. Hell, I'll bet you 10 to 1 he doesn't even wait for orders before he jumps in. I just hope to hell it isn't some backwater hidden Romulan outpost or something, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was. Leave it to Jim to stumble face first into a hornet's nest." I barely caught the last thing he said because his voice trailed off and his head lilted sideways.

I sat there for a moment unsure of what to do. Should I call Security to carry him back to his room? Should I look for Jim? He began snoring lightly while I debated. In the end, I decided that the possibility of him getting caught walking out of my room in the morning would be far less embarrassing than people seeing him passed out drunk. A late night dalliance was easier to explain than a drinking problem should your professional standards be called into question. This was no longer a professional visit, it was personal and I felt an obligation to protect his dignity- no matter how tattered it was.

I tried waking him, but it was no use. He had consumed the entire bottle and who knew how much more prior to that. I wrestled him from the chair to the bed with a great amount of effort. He was much heavier than he looked. There was one embarrassing moment when my feet slipped and I fell on top of him on the bed, my arms pinned behind his back. He rolled his head and muttered something before roughly grabbing my head and pressing his warm lips to mine. His breath was hot and laced with the stinging smell of whiskey. Thankfully, he quickly slipped back into oblivion, leaving me dazed and confused about what had just transpired. I made the decision that he was drunk and didn't mean it, so as long as he didn't remember it in the morning, it would never be spoken of again. With strategic planning and frequent repositioning, I managed to get him stripped down to his Starfleet regulation boxers and covered him up, being sure to roll him onto his side so he wouldn't choke in the event he had to vomit in his sleep. That thought alone kept me up.

I sighed and sank down next to him on the floor leaning against the bed. "Collins to Medical." I called to activate the paging system. "Be advised Dr. McCoy will be off duty tomorrow." I might have imagined it, but I thought I heard cheering on the other end.


	28. Chapter 28 About Last Night

**Chapter 28- About Last Night…**

I sat on the floor next to McCoy in the dark for the remainder of the night. I listened to his rhythmic long and slow breaths that were laden with booze. I was almost intoxicated by proxy, the sloppy drunken kiss aside. It wouldn't have mattered if he had come or not, I would have been awake. I didn't tell him, but I hadn't been sleeping very well since the away mission. I didn't tell him because it all sounded insane, but there was something about the scroll that Jim found that had triggered nightmares about Saren. They were so vivid, sometimes I would wake up gasping and sweating, my heart threatening to jump out of my chest and run away. I didn't tell him because it sounded whiny. People go without sleep all the time, no one ever died from it.

I folded his clothes neatly and placed them in the chair next to his boots and left a message on my PADD, squinting when the bright backlight hit my eyes in the darkness. "SLEEP IN- YOU HAVE THE DAY OFF. I MEAN IT!!!" I quietly changed in the bathroom and went down to the sickbay for my shift.

As soon as I arrived, I was peppered with questions and half anxious stares. Everyone wanted to know what was wrong with McCoy. You would think judging by their reactions and hushed tones that he had died or something. I told them he wasn't feeling well. Even demigods get sick every now and then, was it that hard to believe? Apparently, for them it was just too good to be true. The sickbay had a markedly different tone that day- when the cat was away…

Unlike McCoy who was more or less tied to sickbay during his shift, I was pretty well free to roam the ship. My choice to be on deck 5 was a matter of convenience, because in reality psychological crises were bound to happen anywhere and treatment was effective in most locations throughout the ship. I didn't need an array of scanners and vials of liquids, all I needed was my voice and intellect and thank goodness those items were very portable.

I swung by my quarters on the way up to the bridge shortly before lunch to check on McCoy. He was still wrapped up in the sheets and sleeping soundly, although at some point he had awakened and read the PADD which now rested on the desk. I was glad to see he took my advice and had the good sense not to show up for his job hungover. Jim was a pretty forgiving guy, but even he had limits. However, I was more than just a little perplexed at how he apparently had no qualms about sleeping in my bed, disinhibited by the booze or not. That was something I just couldn't do, even if I was drunk and in some way I admired him for it. Now I just hoped that if he got up to use the bathroom, he was sober enough to hit the hole and not piss all over the floor.

When I got to the bridge, I was stopped in my tracks by an incredibly cold stare emanating from Spock's dark eyes. I didn't want to think that Spock was capable of blind murderous rage, but I had seen homicidal schizophrenics look more lucid than he did in that moment. In his hands he held the Rubik's cube and he twisted it in such a methodical and purposeful manner it was chilling. It was almost as if the cube were some kind of timepiece that tracked the final moments of my life. Once it was solved, time would be up and he would come for me. I just had to make sure it was never fully solved…

Jim sprang from his chair with a wicked grin when he spotted me and it unnerved me because with him you never could tell if that was a good or a bad thing. I actually found it a little creepy because at times he reminded me of a used car salesman. He casually put his arm around my shoulders and steered me toward the conference room, asking Spock to take control. Spock took his seat in the Captain's chair, but continued to work his puzzle and glare at it with his lips drawn in a tight line across his face as though he found it's very existence vexing.

Jim fell into a chair with a satisfied sigh and an even wider grin. "So, _Doctor_," he all but giggled, "why don't I have a CMO today? Did Bonsey have an ache only you could fix?" His blue eyes danced with excitement.

I was dismayed by his lewd connotations. "And what makes you think I would know?" I asked coyly.

He scoffed incredulously. "Because I am the Captain of this ship! I know where everyone is at all times, and I know that Bones went to your quarters at 22:54 last night and he is still there. So what did you do to him?" He paused to raise his eyebrows. "If I go down there, am I going to find him bound and gagged with a pink bow around his neck?"

"No," I said irritated, "what you will find is a drunk man sleeping it off. Yesterday was a bad day for him and he hit the bottle a little too hard before dropping in. He passed out in my room, so I let him sleep there rather than parade him through the halls for others to see."

Jim sat back in his chair, smile quickly fading. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and somber. "So it's over, then?" I reluctantly nodded and Jim whispered, "Shit. I feel like an ass for asking, but did you take him off duty for mental reasons?"

"No. I just told his staff he was sick, which isn't exactly a lie." I answered. "I just thought it would be better that way."

Jim looked to me with quiet gratitude. "I think so too." He had nothing to thank me for. McCoy would have done the same for either of us if it meant allowing us to save face in a moment of disgrace. His face lightened somewhat when he asked, "Did he try to kiss you?"

"It was an accident." I slowly clarified.

Jim shrugged noncommittally. "He does that sometimes, but he is harmless. At least he isn't a mean drunk. He's a lover, not a fighter."

"And how do you know this?" I asked playfully. He only looked at me with a wide, mysterious grin that made me laugh.

"Anyway," Jim said clearing his throat, "we should arrive at the planet in a bit. You are welcome to hang out up here and watch the show on the big screen. I can imagine you must be excited to see the real deal."

"Absolutely!" I agreed. "But I have to make sure McCoy will be all right first."

"Yeah, of course." Jim said quietly. "Collins, thanks for…you know…watching him like that. You are a better wife than his real one was."

I smiled and responded, "After all he has done for me, I kind of owe him."

Jim nodded in appreciation, but said, "Trust me, he doesn't keep score. Only the bad shit- he has a memory like an elephant for that stuff."

When I got back to my quarters after lunch, McCoy was gone. The bed was neatly made so tight you could bounce a quarter off it and it was so pristine, I almost didn't want to sit on it and mess it up. I certainly never put that much effort into making a bed. My philosophy was you were going to crawl right back in it x number of hours later and mess it all up again, so why bother?

He didn't show up in sickbay the rest of the afternoon or for dinner and I was beginning to worry. I went to his quarters after dinner to do what in my mind amounted to a welfare check, but he didn't answer his door. I stood outside imagining all the horrible things that could have happened and cursed myself because I didn't know how to force open a door. I made a mental note to ask Chekov how to do it since he seemed to know how and he wouldn't think too much of it.

I was just about to leave when the door opened to reveal McCoy, pale and scowling. His hair was wet and the scent of masculine cleaning products was strong. I was relieved to know that he didn't answer the door because he was in the shower, not because he had died choking or of a heart attack from dehydration or any other number of awful scenarios that I imagined. "I just wanted to see how you were." I smiled.

He looked down at the floor and grumbled. "You see it."

I sensed that he wanted to be left alone, so I gently smiled and said, "Ok then. Maybe I will see you later."

He hesitated for a moment before gruffly asking, "Wait. Do you have a minute?" He looked so miserable, I couldn't say no. He invited me in and slowly began, "Look, about last night…"

I cut him off with a decisive, "Last night was fine. Your staff thinks you were sick and no one is none the wiser. Your secret is safe with me."

His scowl relaxed a little and he sighed, "I usually don't let myself get like that. It was just that I was so pissed off and frustrated that I just didn't want to feel anything anymore. I just wanted to be numb, but I guess there wasn't enough alcohol to drown it all. I don't remember a lot of last night, so I apologize if I did or said anything that made me an ass. I shouldn't have bothered you."

I smiled warmly at him, remembering the impromptu kiss that was triggered by my falling on him, but he was embarrassed enough already, there was no need to make it worse. Maybe I would save that one for much later when he could have a laugh about it, when things didn't seem so dark to him. "You were right to come last night and you didn't bother me." I thought it best just to sidestep the 'making me look like an ass' bit since I couldn't think of a suave half truth on the fly. "Besides, you have seen me at my worst as well."

He smirked and waved me off. "That's different."

"Is it?" I asked rhetorically. "Don't think for a minute I didn't want to die of embarrassment when I couldn't control my own panic response both when I saw the Romulan and when you fixed my eyes."

He frowned and shrugged casually. "That was a reasonable response to extreme stress, Collins. Christ, I don't think any less of you. Hell, I might have felt the same."

"And so it is with me." I replied softly. "I understand why you did what you did and it makes perfect sense to want to run from more pain than one person can stand. For me, what happened last night is no different than my panic attack was for you. These things happen, but I am glad that you showed up at my door last night."

"I still think we are talking apples and oranges, but whatever." He chuckled.

"Jim invited me up to the bridge to see the planet we are supposed to watch. Would you like to join me?" I asked hopefully. He really shouldn't be left to mope and brood in his room.

"You go on ahead." He answered shaking his head. "I probably have a stack of paperwork down in sickbay. Besides, I shouldn't let them get too used to not feeling my presence." If stalking sickbay would make him feel better, I was all for it. The interns on the other hand…


	29. Chapter 29 Peep Show

**Chapter 29- Peep Show **

I took a chair out of the conference room and sat next to Uhura where I would be out of the way and she could explain things to me quietly without disturbing the rest of the crew. I was giddy as a school girl, but I didn't want to make Jim regret his offer by making myself a nuisance. Intermittently, my view of the screen was blocked by Spock's pacing. We were approaching the planet, but he still had a few minutes to get a few more blocks into place. I certainly wasn't going to say anything to him least he try to throttle me as I heard he did Jim over the toy.

Jim gave the order to Sulu to full stop when he felt we were at a safe distance, close enough to observe, but far enough away should the inhabitants see us as a threat and try to attack. At Jim's request, Spock brought up an image of the planet and began running diagnostic tests through the ship's scanners. The planet itself was nothing special to look at. It was dark brown and completely covered in craters that didn't look quite natural, it looked so inhospitable that it was hard to imagine anything surviving on the surface.

"Captain, the scanners indicate small villages positioned around a central structure. Humanoid creatures are present, although they number less than 200. Further analysis reveals the presence of thermonuclear residue, although the half life signature of the plutonium would indicate that approximately 350 years have passed since detonation. Radiation levels are at a level deemed safe." Spock droned. "However, there are very few plant and smaller fauna species remaining."

"Sounds like Easter Island." I commented. "Maybe they are rioting because they are running out of food."

"Possibly." Jim said turning toward us. "Uhura, can you pick up any signals?"

She adjusted her earpiece and pushed buttons on her console. "No, Captain. They are not transmitting any kind of communication signals."

"Do you think maybe the civilization started over again vhen the bomb destroyed everything?" Chekov asked no one in particular.

"That is a logical supposition, Ensign." Spock answered. "There were apparently survivors from the nuclear attack and it would be logical to assume the inhabitants are the descendants of the original colony since the scanners are not detecting advanced technology such as ships indicating more recent settlements."

"Captain!" Uhura alerted. "I am getting something. They know we are here." She seemed just a little surprised and maybe unsettled by that.

"What are they saying?" Jim asked casually as though he didn't care if they knew or not.

"They apparently have a surveillance system and they said they could see our ship in orbit. They are alerting the queen." She answered still listening to the chattering in her ear.

"So, a monarchy." Jim noted in a bored tone. "But how can they see us? I thought they didn't have advanced technology."

"All you need is two pieces of ground glass and a good sized strip of leather to make a telescope." I replied. "The ancient Chinese had gun powder long before anyone else and even the Egyptians had batteries. You don't need fancy wires and circuits to get the job done, MacGyver proved that every week. With a little ingenuity and some random spare parts you can build almost anything."

"Touché." Jim acknowledged with a smile. "The question is, could they build a photon torpedo bay with rocks and strips of animal hide since it seems that is all they have beyond a simple communication system?"

"Scotty could." Sulu laughed.

"No shit. Isn't MacGyver a Scottish name? Maybe it just runs in the blood or something." Jim mused. "Anyway, I can handle them lobbing some rocks at us with a giant sling shot, so long as they aren't sitting on something more lethal. Spock- our shields can handle a pebble assault, right?" He asked tilting his head back to look at his Science Officer.

"I believe our forward shields would be sufficient against such an attack, Captain." Spock answered, completely unamused.

"Captain, I have an incoming transmission from the planet." Uhura announced.

Jim turned and smiled in surprise. "Well, they are sneaky. On screen. Let's do a little meet and greet, shall we? Look sharp everybody- first impressions are always the most important." I sat up straight in my chair and wondered what that said about he and McCoy since according to him, the doctor threatened to vomit in his lap when they first met and yet they were BFFs.

The picture was grainy and of poor quality, but the aquiline face of a woman in a white and gold robe came in view. She was flanked on either side by two women who were heavily muscled and armed with jagged weapons. Their heads were shaved and they looked absolutely fierce- true Amazons. They were strikingly beautiful in a menacing kind of way. I leaned slightly toward Uhura and whispered, "Those could be men-women."

"Mmhmmmm." She lilted taking them in with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"Hello there." Jim smiled when the woman did not initiate conversation. "I am James T. Kirk, Captain of the Enterprise and emissary of the United Federation of Planets. We heard there was a disturbance so we came to check it out, but we mean you no harm."

She sat on her throne and regarded him with unconcealed contempt. "We have no need of your intervention. You would do well to mind your own affairs."

"Ok." Jim said caught a bit off guard by her directness. "Look, we aren't here to interfere. But if you need some kind of assistance…"

"What do you offer?" She asked abruptly cutting him off with the same steely gaze.

"Well, we can give you provisions and medical assistance." He continued. "It looks like your people are starving. If you are having some kind of civil war, we can offer negotiators."

"Captain," Spock whispered in a low voice, "our orders were to observe, It would be inadvisable to become involved without further instruction from Starfleet."

"Relax, Spock. If they need help, we can't just turn our backs. What if eventually they want to join the Federation? A little humanitarian aid now will make a better showing than flipping them off."

"Very well." She said icily. "Send your people."

The screen went black when the planet stopped transmitting and the room suddenly seemed a few degrees warmer without her. "Sulu, follow me. Spock- you have the com. Kirk to Medical- Bones! Pack your shit, we're goin' down!"

"Goddamn it!" McCoy replied frustrated. "We have been in orbit 10 minutes and already you get us drug in?'

"Race you to the pad, Bonsey." Jim smiled heading for the lift.

Spock sat in the Captain's chair and Chekov manned both stations at the front while Uhura and I milled around in the back. "I got a bad feeling about this." Uhura muttered shaking her head.

"I know," I concurred, "there was something about her that was off. It was like she was hiding something."

"I also object, however, we have no evidence of ill intent on her part." Spock interjected.

"I know you love hard facts, Spock, but I am telling you I know she is up to something as sure as I am breathing. I can't tell you what it is, but it is so obvious." I pleaded. "I can see right through her."

"Perhaps at a later date I will consult you when I have need of your X-ray vision, Doctor." Spock said curtly. "But until that time we will follow the Captain's wishes no matter how low the probability of success." I might have been offended at his sharper than necessary rebuke, but I knew it was most likely misplaced anger over the toy so I let it go in order to focus on the looming disaster I just knew lie ahead- even if I couldn't provide exact evidence for Spock.

I didn't know what it was about the area surrounding Spock's station that encouraged pacing, but that was exactly what I did. Minutes passed into hours with no response from the away team and even Spock was becoming suspicious. Uhura tried several times to contact the members on the team via communicators, but every attempt was met with silence. Finally, Spock instructed Uhura to open a channel to the planet. When a successful link was established, Spock greeted the woman in white and identified himself. "We have been unsuccessful in reaching our people since they arrived on your planet." He calmly stated. "Is everything as it should be?"

The woman gave a sardonic smile and replied, "Everything is exactly as it should be. We are finding your men quite useful." The twisting of her cruel lips made me sick. Hers was the face of a sadist and I recognized it immediately. It was no longer a suspicion, I knew Jim, Sulu, and McCoy were in danger.

As though she were demonstrating a magic trick, the screen flashed briefly before coming back into focus. I felt the blood drain from my skin when I saw Jim laying face down on a dirt floor looking at the camera. His hands were shackled behind his back and he was surrounded by three of the Amazon guards, each with a foot on his shoulders and one on his head to keep him still. His face was bloody, but he smiled sarcastically at one of the guards. She stepped on him harder for his efforts.

Just behind him, I could see McCoy and Sulu. They had been suspended in chains by their wrists and by the way that they swung when they moved, their knees must have been just a fraction of an inch off the ground, increasing the pressure. They looked as though they had been similarly beaten and it was all I could to force myself to watch. "They are my property now." The woman sneered. "And they will be marked as such."

"Have you lost your damn minds?" McCoy asked struggling against his chains. The guard nearest him spun and gave him a sharp roundhouse kick in the side with her gold shin guard, causing him to gasp and cough. Sulu's eyes went wide as he watched one of the guards approach Jim with a red hot brand. Jim couldn't see what was coming and his eyes went wide when she held it to the back of his neck with a soft hiss.

It was clear by looking into his eyes that he almost instantaneously went to a faraway place to get away from the unexpected and overwhelming painful sensation. Normally, a psychologist would tell you that dissociation is a bad thing, that one should face obstacles with a lucid calmness. But there are times when simply checking out is better than dealing with mind blowing consequences and I was glad to see him do it. I might have screamed if Uhura had not slipped her slender hand into mine. As it was, I couldn't breathe. She kept her head up and looked ahead with a sense of determination as she squeezed my hand. I took her lead and did the same. She was on to something; fear and desperation was exactly what the queen wanted to see and we were not going to give that to her. He was hauled away and in short order, Sulu and McCoy followed. Sulu accepted his mark with the calmness of a Hindu cow that left me speechless. I couldn't imagine having that kind of discipline. McCoy squeezed his eyes shut tight and bared his teeth during his ordeal and only once let out a faintly strangled growl.

Once they were strung up, the guards approached them with wicked smiles and began cutting off their hair to symbolize their association with the tribe. Locks of hair tumbled down around them and when the women were finished, they gathered some of the shorn locks and presented it to the queen. Cutting off their hair served no other purpose than humiliation, just as the Nazis did to Allied sympathizers during WWII.

Through it all, Spock sat stoically in his chair. "What do you seek for their return?" He asked calmly. I found it amazing that he would try diplomacy when he had the ship's entire compliment of technology and weaponry at his disposal.

"Men are of no use to us Aurelians." She spat. Uhura and I glanced at each other in horror. "I will give you two of them back in exchange for one good woman. You have 10 minutes to make your offer." When she disappeared, Spock's shoulders sagged ever so slightly.

"Spock," I called, "Let me go."

He looked at me with just a hint of surprise. "I am not permitted to do that, Doctor." He said flatly. "You have very rudimentary training and…"

"I know." I agreed cutting him off. "But I am telling you, Spock, I can do this. I can read her like a book! She is scared out of her wits and if there is anyone who can capitalize on that, it is me. I don't have to beat her physically, I just have to manipulate her fear of losing power by offering to help her. I can't explain it to you, but when two women meet each other, we just know who would win in a battle. Uhura, help me out here." I pleaded.

She shrugged and admitted, "Yeah, pretty much."

"I can take her, Spock." I reiterated.

He regarded me for a moment before asking, "Are you certain this desire to be involved has nothing to do with any attachment you may feel toward Dr. McCoy? If you are blinded by your feelings for him, I cannot use you."

The corners of Uhura's mouth twitched slightly. "No." I answered emphatically. "My concern extends to all."

"Very well." He said hesitantly. "Which of them will you choose to stay?"

"I have a plan for that." I smiled. "Chekov- do you still have my signature in the transporter computer?"

"Yes, it vill be there." He answered confused.

"Good. The second I can break free, I want you to beam me up. I do not want to tango with any of those guards if I can help it." Just the thought of it made me queasy.


	30. Chapter 30 A Game of Chess

**A/N: Welcome to double overtime! I wanted to get this done in 30, but here we are and I know if I stop now I will get pelted mercilessly with virtual rotten produce of various persuasions, so we will shoot for 35-ish. This has taken much longer than I wanted and I squarely blame all of you who are so darn encouraging! If it wasn't for all your love reviews I could quit…but nooo…you people have to be so nice and downright funny…**

**Chapter 30- A Game of Chess**

Spock decided to keep Chekov on the bridge and instead directed Scotty to meet me in the transporter room since Engineering probably wouldn't see any action in the foreseeable future if they were in a holding pattern in orbit. On the ride down in the lift, I tried to clear my head and take some deep breaths. I had taken police psych before, so I knew the basics of hostage negotiation- which was kind of what this was- but outright Machiavellian manipulation was a dark art all unto itself.

I had to prepare myself to do or say anything necessary to get everyone out. In short, I had to use every ounce of my training to gain her trust, flatter her, scare her shitless, and then offer her a way out all while carefully spinning lies that were believable yet flexible enough to bend if I didn't read her correctly. The thing that made her dangerous was that she was not psychotic in the least. On the contrary, she was very cold and calculating which meant I had to stay one step ahead of her in the dance across the chessboard. Too bad our pieces were actual people.

I greeted Scotty when I arrived and took my place on the pad. He looked at me with just the slightest bit of apprehension in his eyes. "Scotty, what happens when a psychologist and a hooker spend the night together?" I asked with a smile.

"I dunno, Doc." he replied, "but tell me when ya get back safe with the others. Ah will be here waitin' for ya." He grinned at me and I held on to his smile until I could no longer see him.

I reconstituted near a very large building that looked very much like the ruins that I saw on AR-558. Three of the Amazon guards were waiting and they looked even more frightening up close, but I remembered Uhura's example and kept a self-assured appearance bordering on defiance. Psychologists are nothing if not great actors since we are privy to the very thoughts and mannerisms of others that make a person who they are. Even though it was a slightly uncomfortable persona, I channeled the essence of Saren to give me a disguise of supreme confidence and a casual disregard for unpleasant circumstances. I had to be coolly detached if I was going to make her swallow my snake oil and beg for more.

The guards surrounded me and ordered me to put my hands on my head while they marched me into the large building that resembled a temple. I walked with them until we entered a large antechamber where the Queen sat on her throne flanked by more guards. To the Queen's left hung Jim, Sulu, and McCoy who in unison looked as if to say, "WTF?!" I just knew Spock would never be left in charge again.

_Come on, boys. Play ball with me._

I stopped in front of the Queen and one of the guards kicked the back of my knees to make me kneel. She looked down at me in silence for perhaps a minute while I steadily held her gaze, not flinching. Finally, she took a deep breath and said, "We welcome you, sister. I am Queen Sentia. What is your name?"

"Morgan Collins." I answered. I thought it best not to use the hyphenated form to indicate I was married if they really hated men as much as it seemed. Even though I wasn't really married, it would have been too convoluted to explain so It thought it best to just avoid it outright.

"And what is your occupation?" She asked raising her dark eyebrows slightly. "You have the look of a warrior."

"_Women are the ninjas of mind fucking and you are their queen."She had no idea…_

I bowed to her slightly and replied, "Your majesty is very generous. I am the ship's counselor."

"You advise your Captain?" She inquired intrigued.

"I tried, but it seems he does not value the advice of a lowly woman." I sneered looking in Jim's direction.

He was momentarily startled by the false accusation, but quickly caught on and rhetorically asked, "What does a woman know about war anyway? Your place is the kitchen, not the bridge." The guard that stood behind him slapped him in the back of the head and I wished he hadn't said anything.

"That is why I volunteered to join you, Queen Sentia. My talents are obviously being wasted. I could help you expand your empire. I come from a planet with a history of great Queens and military leaders. Catherine the Great ruled over the largest empire of the time and her reign saw unparalleled peace and prosperity. Queen Elizabeth I was a woman of great power in a time when the treachery of men sought to destroy her. Joan of Arc led an army that defeated the British who sought to invade her country. Boadicea held off the Roman legions, the most formidable killing machine of it's time to defend her homeland. Cleopatra was the brilliant Pharaoh who also saved her empire from Roman conquest by her wile and wit. There are these and many more. You can learn from these great women and I can help you."

Her eyes had lost the usual hard edge and were now neutral. "But I have armies to defend me. How can you be of help?"

"Your armies of warrior women are impressive." I baited. "But your colony is dying. We have located one of your sister settlements that has been wiped away and yours is perilously close. I can help you expand and survive. Expansion is not always about conquest, your majesty. A wise queen will choose the best strategy for her long term success."

It was just a split second, but I saw it; a flicker of self-doubt and fear flashed across her eyes.

_That's right. You know your days are numbered._

She lifted her head and narrowed her eyes at me. "Explain yourself."

"Truly successful women of power know the enemy they wish to engage. If you choose to fight men, it is best to know what motivates them. What happens when you physically fight a man?" I asked glancing over at the captured crew. "They love it. It is in their nature to love violence, so it is best to use that as a last strategy. Men are at the heart very simple creatures and can be harnessed in much easier ways." I didn't want to give away all our secrets…. "But it is also to your benefit to understand the conditions of each battle, which brings us to your agreement. I willingly came to you in exchange for two of the men."

She glanced at the row of prisoners and almost rolled her eyes. "I will honor your agreement. Choose which will go free."

I looked back at her and smiled sarcastically. "Respectfully, my Queen, it would be best if you choose because now is a good time to use your intellect as you would in battle. Think of it as practice."

She seemed amused by the game as she laughed lightly. "Then I will keep your Captain since he has the most value."

"It would seem a wise choice, your majesty, but he is and never was my Captain. Despite wearing similar clothing, I never was one of them. And you are right about his rank making him valuable, but consider this: he is not just a Captain, but perhaps _the_ most important in the Federation which actually makes him a liability. All the man in control of the ship now has to do is say the word and 50 more will descend on your planet and obliterate you. You keep him here at your peril."

The blank expression on her face was priceless. She either didn't know how powerful the Federation was or never considered it a threat. Jim rattled his chains in protest, but McCoy hissed at him. I knew he would insist on being the one left behind, but he was more useful back on the ship to formulate a plan. No matter how smooth I talked, there was still going to be two who needed rescued. There was no way I was good enough to talk her into letting all of us walk away. "Then the young one. His face pleases me." She revised.

I looked at Sulu who glared at her defiantly. The short hair actually did him well- I could easily see him in saffron robes wielding his multi-edged sword with focused intensity like a Shaolin monk. "Certainly a good reason," I said hesitantly, "but how will one pleasant looking male further your quest when all he is good for is a few moments of fleeting pleasure?" It almost sickened me to think of him being a boy toy. "You will eventually need ships to colonize other more habitable worlds. He is a pilot, your highness, he does not know how to build ships and therefore useless to you. You would be selling yourself short by keeping him when really _he_ is the one you want." I stated jerking my head in McCoy's direction.

She looked him up and down while he kept shooting fierce warning glares at Jim to keep him quiet. "Why would I want that one?" She asked patently dissatisfied.

"He has valuable skills that are immediate and practical." I smiled trying to sell it as hard as I could. "Your warriors are limited, but with his knowledge you can keep them healthy and strong to fight another day. Let him demonstrate his abilities." I suggested. "He came here with a bag of tools. Let him show you what he can do." McCoy looked at me wearily. I could just imagine him saying, 'Damn it! I'm a doctor, not a side show magician!'

"Very well." The Queen sighed. "He will use you to impress me." As McCoy's guard released him and marched him in my direction, another guard drew a short blade and drug it across my forearm. It stung and I struggled to keep my face neutral. I had no idea how Spock managed it when I had seen him deal with far worse. The Queen watched intently as he removed one of his many devices from his bag and held my arm steady as he carefully used a laser to close the wound. Her face was pale with astonishment and I remembered that was pretty much how I felt the first time I saw him do it. The technology he had was far more advanced than anything they had ever seen.

"Release the others." She breathed still staring at my outstretched arm.

Sulu limped alongside his guards, but Jim was defiant to the end and had to be drug out of the complex by three of the heavily muscled women. I followed along behind while McCoy was returned to his restraints. Although he may not have liked being strung up, he was able to see the writing on the wall and played along. When the women released Jim and Scotty went to work, he gave me a determined look. I could see the wheels turning in his head already and I was grateful.

_Think of something fast, Jim._

The guards watched he and Sulu dissolve with a barely concealed sense of wonder. When they disappeared, they all looked to the sky as though they could see them ascending to the stars and I smirked. To think I was once like them; the things I took for granted these days.

I returned to the main chamber where I was again forced to kneel and my hands were chained together in front of me. I felt honored, my manacles were gold with fancy scrollwork unlike McCoy's which were made of what looked like rusted iron. "You will now join us, sister." The Queen said rising from her throne. "Your initiation will be at first light."

I nodded once with determination, but I knew that we would be long gone before then if Jim had anything to say about it.


	31. Chapter 31 Checkmate

**Chapter 31- Checkmate**

I was left in the company of a guard while appropriate accommodations could be made. The rest of the compliment of guards left with the Queen when she retired. McCoy was left hanging by himself and he looked very bored and uncomfortable.

I turned my attention to the woman who stood straight as an arrow by me. She looked as though she couldn't have been more than 20. Her skin was a beautiful light mocha although it was marred by scars from battle. Like the others, her head had been shaved until only dark stubble remained. I smiled softly at her and asked, "What is your name?"

She quickly glanced at me and stammered, "Antonia." She reminded me of Pavel in some strange way. "May I ask about the colony you found?" She almost whispered. I began to wonder if she was still in training or of a lower rank, she didn't carry herself the way the older women did.

"Sure." I smiled. "There were ruins that looked like the buildings here. It was abandoned, though. We found scrolls that said there was a Queen Octavia and her armies destroyed everything." Even as the words fell from my lips I realized it didn't make sense.

Antonia smiled at me and said, "The legend says that Octavia was a great Queen who ruled the stars. She had machines that could travel far across the sky. She made deals with people from other lands, but one of the men she made deals with crossed her and he brought enough machines to darken the sky. Queen Octavia died in battle defending her people. It was a long time ago, but we all pass down the story to remind ourselves of her bravery and the treachery of man." I nodded appreciatively and tried to commit it to memory to tell Uhura later. Almost as a post script to her story, the temple shook with a thunderous boom. The guard was stunned as were McCoy and I. "Are your people attacking us?" She growled through clenched teeth.

"No!" I shouted shielding myself from falling dirt and stone chips. "They would never fire on us!"

"Like hell they wouldn't!" McCoy yelled. "This has bat shit crazy written all over it and by extension that means Jim." There was another round of blasts and the ground shook under our feet.

I looked to Antonia and said, "You have to let him go. The Queen personally chose him as her servant. He can't die here."

She looked back at him and replied, "The life of one man is nothing. His death will be meaningless."

"He is special." I interjected remaining calm. If I could just get her to believe me… "He has abilities the Queen cannot live without. Release him so we can return him to her."

Her eyes wavered between her indoctrination and the apparently conflicting wishes of her Queen. I felt bad lying to her, but I was so soiled by deceit that it hardly mattered. What was one more fetid lie? "Do it!" I commanded appealing to her respect for authority. If she was accustomed to taking orders from older women then I could bark them. She removed a tool from her belt and unfastened the cuffs that held McCoy with an almost unbelieving awe. The poor girl was traumatized and scared, but I didn't have time for that now. I had to get us out of here and I remind myself that I couldn't save everyone I encountered, Meyers was proof of that concept.

The blasts continued in intermittent bursts and it continued to rain debris in ever increasingly large chunks. One good sized pieced glanced off the side of my head as McCoy and I made our way through the hall in a mad dash, but thankfully he was ahead of me and didn't see it. Still, I knew I would catch hell for it among other things. We had to stop briefly for McCoy to rest. The kick the guard gave him to the ribs was worse than it looked on the screen and he found it hard to breathe. I took his medical bag from him in an effort to lighten the amount of weight he was carrying and encouraged him to keep moving. Jim had a very dull axe to grind and was trigger happy. I wasn't sure how much longer the stone structure would hold before it came tumbling down around us.

Finally, the entrance came into view and McCoy and I rushed out into what felt like a war zone. People were running in all directions and screaming, trying to avoid the mysterious red thunderbolts that rained down from the sky and exploded all around them, throwing up dirt and rocks like so much shrapnel. I instinctively ducked and covered my head while I followed McCoy to a very large rock. He fell with his back against it, panting and squinting. I squatted next to him, but kept an eye out for any guards that may head our way even accidently.

"Keep your damn head down!" McCoy barked while he fished in the bag to remove his phaser. He handed it to me and I looked down dumbly at it. It looked pristine as though it had never been fired. "It is on stun. Aim and shoot." He instructed still wheezing. I kept my head down as much as possible, my eyes skimmed across the top of the rugged rock and widened when I saw a body moving toward us. Another blast altered their trajectory somewhat and I raised the gun to fire but paused when I saw that it looked like the person was trying to read a handheld device while they ran. The closer they got, the more I noted the slim frame and the short blondish hair…

"Chekov!" I yelled over the din. He paused to look up and another much closer blast sent him scrambling. He crawled past the rock, eyes blinded by dirt and blood. McCoy reached out and grabbed his shirt and pulled him toward us. He scurried backwards until his shoulder crashed into the rock and he wiped his eyes desperately.

"Careful!" McCoy admonished. "You will grind any rocks you got in there deeper. Goddamn it, kid! Are you trying to get yourself killed or go blind?" He once again dug in his bag and pulled out a bottle of water to wash his eyes out. "Hold still." He commanded as he gently laid Pavel's head in his lap and began the process of removing the mud from them. I couldn't watch. My phobia extended to other people's eyes as well. I resumed my surveillance until he was finished.

"Thank you, Doctor." Pavel sighed blinking rapidly as he sat up.

"Yeah, kid." McCoy grumbled. "You can thank me by getting us out of here before one of those men with tits gets us."

"Chekov to Enterprise- I found them. 3 to beam up." He yelled into his communicator. A final blast landed not more than 40 feet in front of us and it was like being near a lightning bolt. At first there was no sound, only a flash of light and a tremendous blast of heat before the sound caught up. The reverberations shook my ribcage in a most sickening way, but I instinctively squatted over McCoy to shield him from the flying dirt.

When the last pebbles fell, McCoy looked up at the sky and yelled, "He said beam us up, not blow us up goddamn it! God so help me, Jim, if I live through this I am so coming to kick your ass!" He shook his fist at the clouds for added emphasis.

As if Scotty somehow heard him, I felt the strange floating sensation that came with having your molecules slowly disassembled one by one and I smiled in relief. We were going home. We all reappeared without incident on the pad in the transporter room, falling backwards with a collective thud when the rock was no longer there to support us. Scotty jogged around the control panel to us to help us up with a goofy smile. I might have kissed him in gratitude if I didn't think Uhura would have something to say about it.

I sat up and looked around in a daze. Medical was standing by, but scattered like dry leaves when McCoy waved them off as they tried to help him to his feet. I accepted the hand of one of the few male nurses on staff and thanked him for waiting until I could maintain my balance before he started for Chekov who by that time had already sprung to his feet and brushed himself off. McCoy hustled Chekov and I into the lift and grumbled, "Deck 5." He stood looking up at the roof of the lift, but I could tell he was absolutely seething just under the surface. It wasn't long before it boiled over. "McCoy to Kirk- you had better be in sickbay or well on your way to getting there! Don't make me come find you! I swear to all that is holy you won't like it!"

"Sir, I do not think he vill be in the sickbay." Chekov observed quietly.

"Of course he won't!" McCoy snapped. "He's like a damn two year old. I will have to play hide and seek with him all over the damn ship until I find him under a bed or something. Then I have to drag his ass kicking and screaming all the way."

"Why don't you let me try?" I asked. "I might be able to get him down there with less fuss."

"Oh really?" McCoy scoffed. "You're on, woman. But if he's not down there in 10 minutes the manhunt will begin." He and Chekov got off on 5 and I continued to the bridge where I was most likely to find him.

Sure enough, he was standing at Spock's station talking with him. I gave Uhura a high 5 when I passed, prompting Spock to pause in midsentence to observe the odd human congratulatory custom. "Well done, Doctor." He said in his usual perfunctory tone. "It appears your estimations of character were correct."

"Yeah, my X-ray vision comes in handy sometimes." I quipped sarcastically.

_Back at ya', Spock!_

He gracefully accepted the backhanded comment with a very slight bow as his only admission of culpability. "However, I was only responsible for half of the plan. Jim did the rest. I thought you were going to blow it!" I laughed turning to him. "God! The way you were fighting those guards I thought you were going to screw the pooch."

Jim busted out laughing when Spock missed the meaning of the phrase and raised his eyebrow. "Hey! I was trying to sell it just as much as you." He chuckled. "What kind of Captain would just skip out and give his crew the finger as he walked out the door laughing? I had to at least pretend I was pissed."

"Captain," Sulu called shakily standing from his station, "The new course has been plotted and all systems are go. May I report to sickbay?"

Jim's eyes grew somber for a moment recalling all that they had suffered. "Yeah, go Mr. Sulu." He answered quietly. It was obvious he felt guilty about dragging them all down to the surface. He probably felt as though he were the cause of their suffering. If he had just listened to Spock…

Almost as soon as Sulu left, Chekov returned with a salute. "Reporting for duty, Captain." He clipped while taking his seat. "Thank you for letting me go." Jim smiled faintly while he watched the young man go to work at his station.

"Jim, can I talk to you?" I asked quietly.

He jumped slightly as though I pulled him back from a deep thought. "Yeah, sure." He agreed reluctantly. As soon as I closed the door to the conference room, he blurted out, "I know, I fucked up. I feel bad about it, ok? I don't really want to talk about it right now."

I looked around the room suspiciously. "That's good," I said slowly, "because I wasn't going to go there with you today anyway. We will save that conversation for later. I just came up to ask you nicely if you will go down to sickbay and get checked out before McCoy forms a posse with pitchforks and torches."

He seemed relieved that I wasn't going to force him to talk about the obvious guilt that had exploded out of him seconds earlier. "Um…I really should stay up here for a little while…"

"Jim." I sighed.

"What? I do have responsibilities as a Captain, you know." He exclaimed playfully.

"What about your obligation as a friend?" I asked rhetorically. "You know he only gets pissed off because he is worried about you and the longer you make him wait the more anxious he gets. It is a vicious cycle. You know as well as I do that he won't let anyone touch him if you aren't down there too and this time he needs it more than you. Do the both of you a favor and go down there without his having to nag and obsess and mark my words- he will be calmer."

He put his hands on his hips and smiled. "Ya think so?" He chuckled. "I never thought of it having anything to do with him, I just thought he was a sadistic control freak."

"He may be those things as well," I admitted, "but this is a secret you will have to keep between the two of us. I never told you anything."

"Hell, if it keeps him from attacking me the moment I walk in the door, my lips are sealed." He replied as we headed for the lifts. "You'd better be right about this."


	32. Chapter 32 No Rest for the Wicked

**Chapter 32- No Rest for the Wicked**

I held my breath all the way down to 5. I hoped that McCoy gave me my full 10 minutes and wasn't hiding somewhere ready to spring on Jim the moment he laid eyes on him before he had the chance to get away. It seemed the entire quadrant of the universe needed manipulating control today and I was starting to get tired of trying to keep everyone marching in step. It felt a little like trying to herd cats.

When we got to sickbay, Sulu was lying on a biobed being treated by one of the nurses while McCoy sat on the bed next to him and supervised with a sullen look on his face. His feet dangled and swung aimlessly over the side of the bed while he watched and shooed away anyone who came near him with a scowl. He may have needed to be looked at, but damn it as long as he was conscious he was the CMO and he dictated when and where that would ultimately take place. Jim was right- he was a bit of a control freak.

I had never really seen much interaction between Sulu and McCoy, mostly because Sulu had the good sense to keep to himself and stay out of harm's way for the most part. Except, of course, when Jim was involved and there was no escaping that. Still, it seemed like McCoy felt sorry for him. Although he would never say it, he probably felt at least a little respect for the pilot because it always seemed that he either tried to keep Jim safe on away missions, or very often was the one to retrieve the Captain after the inevitable mishap and bring him to McCoy and for that he was thankful. Sulu was his eyes and ears on Jim when he couldn't be there.

McCoy's face brightened only slightly when he saw Jim, he regarded his friend with a small nod and resumed his management duties. "See?" I whispered to Jim. "He can relax now. He didn't spring on you like a leopard." Jim seemed incredibly surprised that he wasn't wrestled on to a bed and immediately poked and prodded. "Now like any desired behavior, you have to reinforce it." I instructed with a smile. "To consistently get that response from him you need to show up early and on your own when you have to."

Jim grinned at me and he hopped up on a table and removed his shirt as the attending nurse asked him to. "So is that how you do it? You go around training people like seals or something? Can I have my fish now?"

I laughed and allowed myself to be directed toward the bed across from Jim to get checked out. I knew there was really nothing wrong, but it would set a bad example if I were to refuse treatment while Jim and McCoy were both down there trying to comply even though it ran counter to their very instincts. I sat patiently while the nurse scanned me and took his vitals for the record. As I suspected, nothing but a small cut, a bump, and a light headache. Nothing a little sleep and time wouldn't fix. Now if I could just sleep…

I tried to stay out of the way while making the rounds between Sulu, McCoy, and Jim. Sulu smiled up at me while the nurse cleaned the cuts on his head. "You know, Dr. Collins, I was hoping you would get a chance to sword fight with the guards. I know you could have beat them. They were stronger, but you are faster."

I patted his leg and replied, "I have had a very good teacher. Speaking of, we should practice again soon before I get too rusty." He smiled again and I knew that eventually I would have to talk to him about this experience, but I thought it could wait. He seemed the most psychologically stable of them all and probably the least likely to suffer ill effects from his rough handling. Some people are just naturally more resilient than others.

McCoy finally acquiesced to being treated and I gave him an encouraging squeeze on the arm when I read his expression to say something like, 'This really sucks.' I knew firsthand what it felt like to be on the other side of the desk so to speak. Doctors probably make the worst patients because we simply can't handle the loss of control. I guess in our own way we are all control freaks. I knew that talking to him about this would be a bit harder. He eventually would, in his own time, show up at my door late at night when he was ready to rehash it; most likely with a bottle of whiskey or bourbon to keep his nerves from getting jittery. I had to work on getting him to feel more comfortable without the liquor, but that was in the long term treatment plan. One step at a time.

My heart faltered a bit when I stepped back to take a look at him. His wrists were raw and bloody from the shackles and his ribs were bruised for his uninvited objections about being branded. All of that was common to the others as well, but without his hair he looked strange. His eyes stood out much more and the intensity of them was almost unbearable. His eyes, so unusual in color, now looked haunted and it broke my heart. I knew that he would be ok and that the damage could be repaired, including the Queen's mark, until only the faintest of scars remained. But it was the raw mental scar that I saw in his eyes that bothered me. I couldn't imagine what that must have felt like to be held down and burned in that way. He may have been a trained officer, but he wasn't a soldier like Sulu and Jim. I gave him another light squeeze and silently told him that I would be around if he wanted me. He narrowed his eyes a bit and telepathically replied, 'I will talk to you alright!' All of a sudden I felt like Jo being scolded by her disappointed daddy. How terrifying that must have been for her.

Jim was casually chatting and flirting with his nurse while she worked him over and I smiled. The thing with nurses is that they are in reality the most powerful and devious people in the medical field. They largely control when you get what you need from admission to discharge- you are completely at their mercy. They have generally seen and heard it all so they tend to be jaded, but they will giggle and demur as long as it helps move the process along. Jim probably didn't know he was dealing with a wolf in sheep's clothing, but it didn't deter him one bit. I began to wonder if flirting was almost a reflexive response for him, like a coping mechanism when he was faced with unpleasant circumstances such as being in sickbay. I smiled and wondered how his response may have differed if he got the male nurse. Maybe it wouldn't and he would try to charm him with equal vigor. It seemed that James Kirk hadn't a clue what a boundary was, but that made him all the more intriguing.

Sulu was released on a 3 day medical leave with some bruising around his wrists and face. His mark had been cleaned and reduced to a puffy pink patch although he would have to return for more treatments to further reduce the scarring. He had been given orders to rest his pulled muscles since McCoy was a firm believer in the body's own ability to heal itself and was not generally a fan of intervention unless it was absolutely called for. That meant no fencing and he seemed a little dismayed.

Jim checked himself out and pretty much told McCoy he was going to ignore the 3 day medical after 12 hours or so when he went crazy with boredom. Besides, he smirked, the ship needed him badly and it wasn't in any way fair to leave Spock in charge for that long. McCoy's blood pressure immediately shot up on the monitors for all to see. "Jim," he growled from his bed, "if I find you up on that bridge sooner than the 3 days, I will shove a tranquilizer hypo up your ass and the time will go by much faster than you could imagine."

Jim sauntered over to smile down at his friend. "I know you will, Bonsey. But you have to catch me first and let's face it, you are getting slow, old man." The nurses ushered him away before McCoy had a stroke.

Chekov and I only got 1 day advisements, which essentially meant we could return to duty if we so chose and we both did. I hung around in the sickbay until McCoy was released on a ridiculous 10 day medical which everyone knew he would blow off. I found it ironic that he would expect Jim to faithfully execute his down to the minute while he, as the CMO of course, was free to ignore his as he saw fit. A little hypocritical, but the disparity between expectation and reality never seemed to bother him in the least.

Because of the whole incident, the shifts were all off. Chekov and Uhura were relieved at around 3:00am, about the same time I was headed to 10 forward to get something to eat. I sat with them in the otherwise empty room, relieved to be back in the intimate company of friends. It had been one very long day and it hardly seemed possible that I had not slept in 3 days. I almost swooned when I rewound the videotape of memory in my mind: from being in the temple, arguing with Spock on the bridge, eagerly getting my chair to sit next to Uhura, checking on a sick McCoy during the workday, staying up all night watching him, the awkward accidental drunken kiss, his visit to tell me he had lost his daughter, discussing the scrolls with Chekov and Uhura over lunch, being cleared of Meyer's death, slowly getting my hearing back. It all seemed like ancient history and suddenly I was aware of just how weary I was. One event ran into the next like one continuous blur.

"So, an exciting day for all." Uhura smiled. Her voice was so soothing I wanted to let my head fall into my plate and go to sleep.

"You know I almost shot you, Chekov." I confessed sheepishly. "I had McCoy's phaser and I didn't know it was you at first. It was dark."

He didn't seem at all disturbed by my admission. "It vouldn't be the first time." He casually shrugged. "It vould have hurt, but I vould have forgiven you."

"That makes it worse. If it wasn't for the light from the explosion, I wouldn't have recognized you." I turned to Uhura and asked, "What was with that, anyway? I get what Jim was doing, but did he have to throw down so many?"

"He was more than just a little pissed." She almost choked laughing. "He took personal offense to being officially marked as her bitch, so he told Sulu to rain down photon torpedoes like Zeus hurling thunder bolts at the insolent mortals until she begged him for mercy."

I relayed the story Antonia had told me about the legend. Uhura's eyes lit up when she considered the possibility that we had actually found the ruins of Queen Octavia's colony. Maybe we had interpreted the scrolls wrong: perhaps part of the text was a historical account of the cultural practices of the Aurelians and the drawing depicted the armies of the Amazons defending their home against attack. Perhaps we might never know who the mysterious man that had betrayed her was, but it made for good research material to send back to Starfleet.

I couldn't sleep. Again. I was exhausted and tried to rest, but the nightmares had intensified. It was an incoherent, jumbled mess like photographs spilled on the floor. Fleeting images of chains, burning flesh, blood, my rusted Romulan cell, sounds of screaming, the vacant look in Jim's eyes, the distinct feeling of fear and misery all comingled into a hellish mix and I woke up clutching the sheets in desperation. There was no way I was going back to sleep and I started to wonder if it was possible for a person to die of insomnia.

I got dressed and against my better judgment, went to McCoy's quarters. It was still early in the morning and the ship had not yet stirred for the morning shift. The halls were quiet save for the light hum of the lighting and a soft whirring of the air system. I paused outside his door, not wanting to bother him if he was sleeping, and jumped when it slid open to reveal him and those fiery eyes that were now impossible to ignore. If his gaze couldn't cut through metal before, it would now. "How did you know I was here?" I asked amazed. He smirked and pointed down at my foot that had crossed the threshold just enough to trip the chime sensor. I felt like an idiot.

He waved me in and returned to his bed where he gingerly laid down on his stomach where he had been watching a program on his wall monitor. An open bottle of scotch sat dutifully on the floor by the bed, but not much of it was gone. "Couldn't sleep?" He asked in a bored tone. I shook my head and he added, "Yeah, me either."

"How are you feeling?" I asked taking a seat in his desk chair.

He paused for a minute and ran his finger around the rim of the scotch bottle. "A little sore, but if you came down here to pick my brain, I'm not really in the mood right now."

"I didn't come for that." I sighed. "I just couldn't sleep and thought you might be up. Misery loves company, right?"

His muddled eyes looked back at me over his shoulder and he quietly asked, "Having bad dreams? Is that why you can't sleep?"

It was my turn to be obstinate. "Maybe, but I don't want to talk about it right now."

He nodded in solemn understanding and turned his attention back to his monitor where he put on old episodes of M*A*S*H. Not another word was said between us. We sat together in a comfortable silence and watched the antics of the 4077 until the early afternoon when he drifted off to sleep and I left him to dream. Hopefully his dreams were better than mine.


	33. Chapter 33 Making the Rounds

**Chapter 33- Making the Rounds**

I had to admit defeat. There was no other way around it. There really were no words for tiredness beyond exhaustion, but that was where I found myself- in a nameless, thick haze that dulled every aspect of my being. But I couldn't sleep and didn't want to anyway. The horrible images that stuck to my mind's eye like photographic wallpaper was just too much to look at. Vicarious traumatization was really nothing new, a lot of people who worked in emergency situations often found themselves harmed by the violence and desperation of their patients. Like a sticky residue, the suffering of others tended to have a cumulative effect until critical mass was reached and the matter had to be dealt with.

What was new for me was the fact that up until now I had only heard stories of horrendous maltreatment secondhand, but this time I had actually witnessed it live in action. I rubbed the bridge of my nose, trying to force the absent look of Jim's wide, blue eyes out of my mind. The images that were once relegated to the darkness of sleep were beginning to intrude on my waking hours as well with increasing frequency. I recognized it as symptoms of post traumatic stress, but I had others to attend to first. Besides, the only other person I could turn to was McCoy and he was really in no shape to deal with my problems as well as his own since they stemmed from the same event. I would have to figure something else out later.

My first stop was Sulu for my own selfish reason of knowing that he would be easiest. His room was just a bit down the hall from Chekov's, I remembered. He was standing in the hallway the night Pavel got the horrible news of his brother's death. I remembered how he looked: his body was stiff in anticipation- wanting to jump in and help his friend, but held back both by Pavel's request for him to leave and the arrival of McCoy and I. Although controlled, his face reflected a sense of helplessness at not being able to do anything but watch. That wasn't his style. He was a quiet man, but he was not one to hesitate to spring into decisive action. I hailed his door and entered when he beckoned.

Sulu's quarters were amazing. Although identical to mine in design, his was the first that I had seen to be fully decorated with personal items. Most were artifacts of various Asian origins including swords, Tibetan prayer flags, pots with incense, a rice paper paining of cherry blossoms done in a Japanese style, and a few ultra modern looking works of art in white and glossy black. The room felt warm and inviting, just as he was and it all made sense. He stood and waited for me to choose a seat, a custom I knew I was afforded as his guest but it was a common trick of therapists as well. I took at seat at his desk and he sat on his bed. "How are you getting along, Sulu?" I asked with a smile.

He picked up a PADD and casually tossed it aside. "I am bored already. I have played as much Tetris as I can stand and have caught up on all the reading Scotty had given me on warp core theory. I am glad you came. You take for granted that there will be people around, but I am finding that during the day shift anyone I would want to talk with is at their stations."

"Well, I am always around." I laughed. "I do not really have a shift. I hang out in the sickbay during the day, but I am pretty much on call all the time. So if you ever get bored again, feel free to call." He smiled at the invitation. "How did you sleep last night?" I felt a little hypocritical in asking since it was something I was avoiding myself and I hoped he didn't pick up on it, although he would have to be blind not to notice the dark circles under my eyes.

"Pretty well, actually." He smiled. "It was nice to be in my own bed and I was pretty tired anyway, so I fell right out."

"No problems with bad dreams or feeling disoriented when you woke up?" I checked.

He looked to the ceiling while he quickly thought about it. "No, not that I remember." He answered. "I slept so deeply I don't remember dreaming at all."

"I know this may feel a bit uncomfortable to talk about, but I just want to make sure you are ok." I told him reassuringly.

"It's fine. I appreciate your concern and I know it is your job, but still it is nice." He commented. "I knew you would be around sooner or later and I understand why. But really, I am ok. We are trained at Starfleet for the possibility of being taken hostage and we are also taught techniques to use so we can keep our heads if we are interrogated. I just used some of those along with my personal meditative practice to get through."

I was glad he had strong coping skills in place. "Did they want any kind of information from you?" I asked.

"No, and that was the strange thing." He replied narrowing his eyes. "It was clear they didn't have advanced technology, but they never asked about the ship or any of the things Dr. McCoy had in his bag. It was probably one of the weirdest situations I had ever been in, but it seemed our only value was…" he paused sheepishly, "pardon my saying so, but having a penis."

I laughed and said, "You can express yourself however you like, but if 'penis' is the worst you can do, this could be a conversation fit for the dinner table. Remember who I work with."

"Ah, right." He chuckled. "Well, that was what it seemed like. It was like they only cared about having us around for…services I guess, which I'm sure would have suited the Captain just fine. It is amazing that when you work with him certain things just become normal. Avalanches, natural disasters, being attacked by animals and people alike, it all just seems like a typical away mission. I think this is the first time I have ever been kept as livestock, though." He bit his lower lip as he pondered it.

"You know that we were watching on the bridge." I said quietly. "We saw them burn you." I was taking a bit of a chance by diving into the most sensitive area of the experience, but up to this point he seemed to be completely open and not at all reticent to face his circumstances.

His eyes grew just a bit distant and I started to wonder if I had misread him. "That was a little tough to deal with. I can handle being kicked and punched- that kind of pain is fairly easy to manage because it is over quickly. I had never been burned like that before and it was an intense and lingering sensation that didn't quit until I got back to sickbay. It was like a constant reminder of what you had become."

"How did you deal with it?" I inquired in a soft tone.

"In my family's spiritual system, we believe that the body is only a shell for the soul. Our bodies are temporary shelters for our spiritual energy until it is released when the body dies and we go on to inhabit a different shelter in the next life. So what happens to the body is inconsequential, it doesn't affect the soul unless you let them become too intertwined. So when my time came, I just pulled myself inside and let it happen because although my body was being damaged, they couldn't touch my spirit; it was safe where they couldn't touch it. As a nice added bonus, when all of my focus was on the inside, I didn't feel the outside so much." He smiled broadly at me.

"Like a turtle pulling into it's shell." I observed.

"Yeah, more or less." He agreed. "And when it was over, I came back out. I didn't have much of a choice. Those guards had all of the advantages. There were too many for me to fight by myself. Even if I tried, it would probably have only made the Queen angry and she might have made things worse on the Captain and Dr. McCoy in retaliation. You always have to think of everyone else as well as yourself, so my only alternative was to just go along with it. At any rate, that along with cutting our hair so short was nothing more than her attempt to humiliate us. She didn't want to kill us, that was never part of the plan. If that was her goal, we would have been dead in the first 5 minutes when the guards surrounded us to take us prisoner. Knowing that we had some time and that you guys were up there helped."

"If you don't mind my saying, Sulu, you look nice with short hair. It is a shame it had to come about the way it did, but it is an interesting change." I shrugged.

He laughed and ran his hand over the dark stubble that remained on his scalp. "It isn't as bad as I thought it would look, and I have actually received a lot of compliments!" It was good to see he had a sense of humor about his plight. It was then I knew he would be fine.

"I am glad to hear that you are doing well, Sulu. Remember, if you ever want to talk about anything or nothing in particular you can always page me." I stated rising from his desk chair.

"I will, Dr. Collins. Thanks for stopping by to check on me." He replied walking me to the door.

As I rounded the corner to the lifts, I yawned and debated my next move. McCoy made it clear he was not yet ready for his checkup, so that left Jim. He had been adamant upon our return, but he had some time to go stir crazy since then and he might just be willing to break. As I stood at the lift, I realized that I had never been to Jim's quarters and had no idea where they even were. I approached the computer interface and got up the courage to ask. I just knew the computer hated me, I was always asking it for directions. There were no snide remarks, no synthesized laughing, just the patient information that Jim's room was on deck 2.

The hall looked just like every other on the ship, but there was a strange vibe- an almost awesome sense of power that exuded from the walls. I would have thought that all of the ship's commanders would be on the same floor, like mount Olympus, but maybe the entire floor belonged to Jim. McCoy and Spock were one floor down. I didn't know where Scotty stayed, but it wouldn't surprise me if he slept in the engine rooms to be nearer the ship he loved almost as much as a real woman. I wondered how Uhura felt about the dual relationship.

I approached the door the computer told me would be his. Knowing Jim, he was off getting into something, but I thought I would try anyway. The door slid open with ease and I was faced with a shirtless Jim wearing a smirk. I looked down to respect his privacy, but then remembered it was he that opened the door knowing there was someone on the other side. It wasn't like I hadn't seen him shirtless in sickbay hours before and he was in his own quarters off duty. He didn't have to wear a shirt of he didn't want to; I was just glad he was at least wearing pants. "Doc!" He exclaimed. "Come in and join the party. Seems like I am a popular guy."

I ducked my head in to see McCoy, fully dressed, leaning stiffly against a table. He didn't sleep long and he did looked a little peaked. Jim's quarters were much larger and better furnished, as it should be, but for some reason it didn't seem like he fit in the cavernous room. "Looks like I'm not the only one making rounds today." McCoy said dryly. An array of medical items were spread on the table behind him.

"I am allowed to be working." I retorted turning my gaze to him. "You, however, are on leave."

He mock scowled and waved me off dismissively. "Whatever."

"You might think you can blow off your staff's orders," I said with a sly smile, "but don't make _me_ take you off duty because I will and it will stick."

Jim's eyebrows shot up and he turned to his friend in surprise. "She just threw down on you, Bones!"

McCoy ignored him and threatened, "Not if I take you off first." Jim turned to me with the same wide anticipatory smile.

"You can't." I laughed. "You are already suspended, so you have no power with which to remove me." Jim cocked his head in McCoy's direction like he was watching a tennis match.

"You think so?" McCoy laughed. "What do you think will happen if I go down to sickbay? Who do you think will have the balls to call Security? Nobody. That is real power." I would have hated him if I thought he would actually do it, but he was illustrating a point to save face in front of his friend. Damn testosterone.

"That is not power, that is intimidation." I corrected before quickly addressing Jim before he could respond. "I came up to see you, but I can come back later. Will tomorrow at 1300 be good?" With people like Jim who were slippy, you had to set a firm date and time so they couldn't wiggle out of it.

His smile faded and he became sullen. "I guess so." He mumbled. I wasn't too worried. Once he agreed to meet me he would, even if he didn't really want to. It also gave him plenty of time to get used to the idea of talking to me if he knew it was unavoidable, so hopefully he would be more amenable by then.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" McCoy asked gently herding me out the door. I was a little anxious because I didn't know what I had done wrong. He yelled to Jim over his shoulder that he would be back and we continued to the lifts where strangely he ordered it to go to my floor. Was he going to ground me? "First I would just like to disagree by saying that intimidation is a form of power if you define power as having influence over another. Second, I am disappointed in you." My breath caught in my throat when I saw the intensity in his eyes.

"What did I do?" I asked, fighting to regain a sense of professional dignity.

"It's what you didn't do." He grumbled escorting me to my quarters and waiting for the door to close before explaining. "I thought you and I had an understanding." He was standing like Spock and it was frightening.

"McCoy, I am sorry if I upset you. I was just joking with you back there…" I stated.

He shook his head in exasperation. "Not that. You told me you couldn't sleep last night, but you look like absolute shit." He gestured for me to sit on the bed and he took a seat next to me. "Tell me how long this has been going on." He demanded somewhat calmer.

I laughed in desperation. "I don't know. Maybe 3 or 4 days."

His eyes went wide for just a split second before he could recompose himself to ask, "Why didn't you tell me? We had an agreement." He seemed more upset about the latter than the former and I looked to him confused. "Our deal: you are honest with me and I come clean with you? That deal?" He prompted.

"Yes!" I agreed emphatically. "But lack of sleep is just something you live with." As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt a pang of guilt because I knew I wasn't being truthful with him. "Ok, it isn't that I can't go to sleep at all, I just don't sleep much because…" I didn't want to give words to the things I saw least they come alive in the waking world.

His eyes went neutral as he patiently waited before guessing, "Because you have bad dreams?" I gave a small nod and he went on. "But you have to sleep. I can see you unraveling, you are exhausted and your body needs to rest."

It seemed almost impossible and I had no idea how he managed it, but he pulled a hypo out of thin air and shot me in the neck almost before my nerves could even register the cold sensation of the metal. He rubbed the injection site to make the stinging go away as I whined "You are so mean!"

It was at a sluggish pace, but my brain put the pieces together: he must have taken the hypo off the table which he had preloaded for Jim and hid it behind his back the whole time. That was why he was standing like Spock… The darkness began to close in and before it claimed me, I heard his voice say, "Maybe, but it is for your own good."


	34. Chapter 34 Two to Tango

**Chapter 34- Two to Tango**

The alarm woke me with it's escalating pinging that I found to be like nails on a chalkboard at 1100. I slowly picked my head up off the pillow and looked around with blurry eyes. Oh right, McCoy drugged me last night, or yesterday afternoon…whenever. Whatever he gave me, it resembled a state closer to death than sleep. Absolute darkness that you knew lasted for hours, but seemed more like a blink because you were so out you really had no idea how much time had passed. If it was now 1100, it would have been somewhere in the neighborhood of…16 hours. Good God! It was bad enough he sneak attacked me, but did he have to use a horse tranquilizer? I couldn't be too mad at him, he put me out deep enough so I wouldn't dream. He also took my shoes off, covered me up, and set my alarm before he left so I wouldn't miss my appointment with Jim. At least he had attention to detail.

Like any drug induced sleep, you wake up feeling so tired you just want to sleep more. I pulled myself out of bed and showered, and even had two cups of coffee rather than my usual one but it didn't really help. I had to face it: I wasn't going to have my full faculties to talk to Jim and this caused just a little bit of anxiety for me.

I felt at a disadvantage because despite his carefree and playful disposition, Jim was actually quite astute and he was very good at sidestepping and deflecting. Like a skilled dancer, if you weren't careful he would take the lead and spin you across the floor of a conversation in the speed and direction of his choosing. Like Spock, he chose to hide his true abilities behind an affable exterior and an easy, disarming smile that made you lower your guard. Jim was at the core a very smart man who knew how to read the temperature of the room and adapt accordingly; he could be the 'aw shucks' Iowa farm boy if that was what you wanted, or if a slightly harder edged bar brawling, Romulan ass kicking starship Captain was more your thing he could do that too.

'Social chameleons' we psychologists call people like him. The question was: why? It takes a lot of sustained effort to read and maintain an image for someone, it is not something the average person learns to do with a great deal of skill unless they have to. In general, people who became experts at this were at some time in a prolonged situation of extreme uncertainty and they learned to anticipate the reactions of others to secure what they needed- be it safety, food, or some other resource they could not obtain on their own. People who learned how to manipulate others in this way usually went on to become sociopaths…or used car salesmen. There was a small chance that it could just be an innate ability, but seemed more like he was forced to learn it. I filed it in his mental chart in the back of my mind and swung by the cafeteria for a quick bite before facing destiny.

As promised, he was in his quarters at the time he agreed to meet me. His smile wavered just a bit like the ship's forward shields under heavy fire because despite his best effort to play it cool, he was nervous and I smiled. I was something of an enigma to him because he didn't know how exactly to handle the situation. He couldn't really pull rank because I wasn't in Starfleet. He couldn't blow me off like he sometimes did McCoy. He gestured for me to sit at the table that held McCoy's toys the night before and I smiled at yet another tactic: he had a beer for himself and Bailey's for me. Was he just trying to be a good host, or was he counting on the booze as a way of loosening the steering so to speak?

"Thank you." I smiled taking my appointed seat across from him at the table. "But I don't think drinking is advised. You really shouldn't mix alcohol and sedatives."

"Right." He laughed pushing the drink away from me, but still within reach should I change my mind. "So you got a little taste of Bones' medicine. Now you see what I have to put up with. I knew you bought the farm the minute I saw him holding the hypo behind his back." He took a drink of his beer and mused, "Sneaky bastard."

"You are looking better." I complimented. "The bruises are starting to fade." I gestured to the area around my eye to mirror his.

"Yeah. Nothing I haven't had before. I'll be back to my handsome self in no time." He smiled. At least he had no problems with his self-esteem. "Now if I can just avoid leaving the ship or having to talk to anyone on a subspace channel until my hair grows out again. I look like one of your 21rst century Army recruits with…what did you call them? Buzz cuts?"

"Didn't you have to do that when you enlisted?" I asked laughing.

"No. They stopped the wholesale humiliation of shearing you bald sometime around the middle of the 22nd century. We had to keep it short, but you could wear it pretty much however you wanted."

"So, Jim, I know this is uncomfortable for you. But keep in mind that I am not here to make you feel bad. I promise I won't push you further than you can go. I just want to make sure that you are alright." I stated calmly.

His eyes fell to the table and he turned his beer bottle in circles with his right hand. It made an irritating scraping noise. "As a Captain?" He asked bleakly.

"As a person." I gently corrected. "As a fellow human being."

He sighed and frowned. "I just want you to know that I am not good at this kind of stuff."

I had to figure out a way to make this less stressful for him. "At talking?" I softly smiled. "I know you are par excellence at that."

His eyes were the darkest blue I had ever seen them. "What do you want me to say? I can't emote the way others do. I just can't."

"Then don't." I said simply.

He looked up at me astonished that I would tell him not to talk about his feelings. "Do you want me to cry for you then? Sob about how I fucked up?"

I chuckled and replied, "Coming from you it would be disingenuous at best. Crocodile tears don't impress or fool me. Why don't you just start by telling me what you were thinking when you got to the surface?" Men often found the word 'think' easier to deal with than 'feel' although the two were often interchangeable. It was all about semantics….

He swallowed hard and began, "Well, I thought we were going down there to offer assistance. My plan was to get down there, talk to the Queen to see what she needed as well as a list of supplies for Bones once he was able to assess the situation from his end. Then Sulu and I would return to the ship to gather everything and bring it back. I thought we might be there a few days and then we would be off again. Yeah, I might have some explaining to do to Starfleet, but it just didn't seem right to sit up there in the ship and watch people fall apart from hunger and disease when we could help."

"Makes sense." I commented. "How would it occur to anyone that being a humanitarian would be a bad thing?"

"It did to Spock." He said bitterly rolling his eyes. "He had it from the get go. If I just would have listened to him, none of this would have happened."

"Let's be clear about this." I challenged. "Spock's concern was with protocol, not rendering aid. He may seem cold, but I don't think he is fundamentally opposed to helping others in need. If the orders would have allowed for it, he would have done the same."

"They didn't, he wouldn't, and I shouldn't." He concluded with a huff. "But I did, and I put three of my crewmembers in danger by not following orders. Four if I count you." He took another drink and let the bottle fall back to the table with a ringing thud. "I fuck up from time to time, but I am ok with that because nobody is perfect, right? And I have gotten myself into some pretty tight jams, sometimes with others, but every time it somehow magically works out in the end with only minor damage to the crew. But once in awhile it all really goes to hell and the shit is more serious. It is those times that I realize how much responsibility I have to the people that work on this ship." He sighed and looked at his bottle. "I don't really give a damn about myself. I can take just about whatever people dish out, I have had enough practice at it that it really doesn't bother me anymore. That's kinda fucked up, I know, but I can deal." He stopped to lean forward and look me in the eye with such intensity I wanted to back away. "Do you know what that felt like for me to watch those chicks with dicks hold down my best friend like he was some common criminal and burn him like that, knowing it was because of me it was all happening?"

I took a small breath and whispered, "No."

He sat back in his chair with a thud. "I wish I didn't." He mumbled somberly again spinning his bottle. "But you know what is the worst part? He doesn't hate me for it. He is pissed about being fucked up and off duty, but he doesn't blame me when he should. And Sulu? He is bouncing along like the whole damn thing never happened. I don't deserve to have people like that working for me."

"You want people to crucify you for making a bad decision." I clarified. "Would that be more comfortable for you?" He didn't answer, so I prodded. "Has that been your past experience?" I suspected this was a pattern for him and I remembered the last conversation we had and the smell of blood in Iowa along with his reluctance to talk about his parents. It was all starting to coalesce…

He gave me a dead smile and said, "Maybe next time, Doc."

I nodded. He had already given me more than I thought he would and I did promise him I wouldn't push too hard if he wasn't ready. "Making mistakes or failing in and of itself is not a bad thing." I offered. "The only tragedy that comes from them is when you can't be bothered to learn anything. So in your own words, you fucked up. Fine. What are you going to take away from it?"

He paused and looked at the table, deep in concentration. "Probably to try and be a little more Vulcan and actually listen to Spock once in awhile. He is there for a reason, and it is not to give me meaningless reports and be the butt of ridicule when I get bored with ripping on Chekov. He actually has good ideas once in awhile, but I don't know about the last one. He must have been out of his pointed skull to let you come down there and get in that mess."

"It wasn't his idea, it was mine." I corrected. "And he didn't want me to go, but I convinced him. I had skills that I thought would help. A guy once told me that when you see a break in the clouds you had to go for it or miss your chance."

Jim smiled and answered, "You shouldn't listen to him. He sounds like a crazy bastard."

"He might be. He isn't always right, but he has had a pretty good run with that philosophy." I smirked. Jim may have been good at shifting to blend in, but he had shown his true colors. It was a tremendous thing for him to admit to self doubt and culpability, but he managed and I hoped I had at least made enough concessions to make him feel less hesitant in the future. After all, in order to dance fluidly each partner had to compromise just a little and Jim was a very good dancer.


	35. Chapter 35 Trust Me

**A/N: Here we are. Parting is such sweet sorrow, but every journey has a destination and we have reached ours. Thanks to Aoihand, Hidden Relevance, Greenhemoglobin, The Pyscho Pyro, DamagedBeauty, M'eyari, Zarelle, and the many more of you who both reviewed and followed along on this death march of a FF. Cheers!**

**Chapter 35-** **Trust Me**

Just as Pavel had done for me, I dropped into McCoy's quarters for dinner. There wasn't any reason he couldn't go down to 10 forward by himself, but ever since returning from the away mission and being stripped of his duties he had been moping and seemed a bit lost. I knew exactly how it felt to lose your identity and purpose, so I thought he might enjoy the company. Then again maybe he wanted to be left alone, but that was just too bad. Some things were just for his own good.

He didn't at all seem surprised to see me. "Dinner time!" I smiled.

He stepped aside to let me in. "So that means what, coffee for you and a gin and strychnine for me?"

I made my way over to his replicator and made pasta. "I'm not angry with you, McCoy." I sighed. "I get it. I wish I would have been given a choice, but ultimately you did what you thought best. I know you had my interests in mind."

"I would have, but I know you don't like taking drugs and there really was no other way." He shrugged. "Sometimes you are so stubborn you remind me of Jim."

"Me?" I scoffed placing a plate of pasta for him on his desk. "That's the pot calling the kettle black."

He picked up his plate and stabbed at the noodles fiercely. "How'd it go?" He asked with his mouth full of food. I thought back to the restaurant in the sky in Chicago when his table manners were perfect and I was amused at how quickly they could devolve when the setting changed.

"He is good." I said vaguely. It was still not lost on me how he really did try more than I gave him credit for and he did have the right to patient confidentiality. It was my job to keep secrets, so his being just a little vulnerable would remain strictly between us. A faint smile crossed his lips as he instantly recognized my response as professional code for 'I really can't say anymore' so he let it drop. "The question is: how are you?" I ventured.

He sighed and swallowed the mouthful of food he had. "I am bored as hell and feel about as useful as a tit on a bull."

"Thought you might." I said a little smugly.

"I hate it." He said aimlessly stabbing his pasta. "I know I am in no shape to operate, my damn ribs hurt too much- it would made my hands shake and that is never a good thing for a surgeon. But being cooped up leaves you with hours with nothing to do but sit up into the early hours of the morning drinking and thinking about how much your life sucks."

"Your daughter?" I guessed.

"Well, that too." He frowned. "Everything. The ex, stress on the job, stress when you can't do the job, how your life is so out of control sometimes…"

"What do you mean?" I asked quietly.

He gestured vaguely to the mark that had been burned into the nape of his neck. His eyes grew dark and I sensed a storm coming. "I kept telling myself that it would all be over soon, that Spock would figure something out and get us the hell out of there before anything major happened. But he didn't. Even when I saw that heshe thing walk up to Jim with the brand, I just kept telling myself it wasn't happening. Then I watched Sulu, and even when it was my turn it didn't seem real."

I silently pushed my plate aside. Suddenly I had lost my appetite. "What did you do?"

"The only thing I know how." He replied in a sad tone. "Just thought of it all in very cold medical terms. Didn't work very well, though."

"It was an extremely hard thing to watch." I admitted. "I couldn't imagine having to suffer through that kind of pain."

"I know." He said glancing at me briefly. "I saw the look on your face. The link to the ship was bidirectional." So that explained Uhura's actions… "The pain wasn't the hard part, though. Don't get me wrong: I wouldn't ever stand in like to get on that ride again, but the worst part was the absolute helplessness of being held down and completely unable to do a damn thing about it. Helpless to stop that or getting the shit kicked out of us, or anything about the whole damn situation. And then you showed up."

I smiled softly. Here it comes…

The look of resigned irritation was written all over his face. "You had no business getting into that mess. You should have stayed on the ship."

"Actually I had all the business in the world tied up in chains. Mess with my friends and I will come down there and fuck you up." I laughed.

He smiled and his eyes brightened. "The ninja queen strikes again."

"And it wasn't even on a man!" I exclaimed. "It is much harder to do to a woman because we recognize the tools of the trade easily, so it takes a whole different level of skill. But I would be lying if I didn't admit to being just a little frightened the whole time."

"You? Scared of something other than eye drops?" He mocked.

"I hate you." I said flatly.

"No you don't." He concluded and put his half-eaten plate on top of mine. "You might hate the things I do, but you don't hate me. It just isn't in you."

"That's what you think." I muttered. He didn't really know anything about who I used to be…

His eyes immediately locked onto me and I knew I made a mistake. "What does that mean?" He asked suspiciously.

"I don't hate you." I clarified. "We have this wonderfully strange…something going and I think it is very comfortable."

"Uh huh…" He drawled squinting at me. "But that was not what you were talking about. Just because I am a surgeon does not mean I am oblivious to cracks in the psyche. I just saw a pretty big one."

I looked down at his desk and the congealing pasta sauce on the plates. "People change, McCoy." I sighed. "You just met me at a very strange time in my life."

He continued to regard me with a sense of disappointed mistrust, but he didn't pursue it any further and I was glad. "Will you at least trust me enough to tell me about these bad dreams you are having?" He asked hopefully. "I can keep giving you sedatives, but you know eventually you have to get this off your chest."

His green eyes became soft and I found that strange connection opening between us again just as it did when he left the photograph on my desk with the words, 'You are not alone.' Within those eyes I felt a soothing, peaceful stillness.

I thought back to all I had endured in the past few months and my soul ached for relief. I considered myself privileged to have been allowed into the lives of those on the crew. As they shared their triumphs and moments of sadness, I grew to appreciate them more as colleagues and friends. It was the nature of the misery business to find yourself steeped in sorrow, but a person could only absorb so much grief before the sponge had to be rung out so the process of mopping up the tragedies of others could start again.

Their secrets would always remain safe with me, but I had to release some of the tension to another professional that would understand what it felt like. For that I needed McCoy.

"Yeah," I barely whispered, "I will trust you."

**THE END!!**

**(Almost)**


	36. Chapter 36 Gag Reel

**A/N: I can't take full credit for this- it came about in a conversation between myself and OceanFae about a special "Director's cut" alternate ending for the story. So in keeping with the DVD idea, I decided to remove a few scenes from the story and rewrite them as bloopers. Enjoy, because if you can't laugh at yourself…**

**Gag Reel**

**Chapter 3- The Problem with Vulcans: **_**Uhura talking with Collins**_

**Uhura**: "So what is with you and McCoy?"

**Collins**: "There is nothing with us. We work in the same department and he does his thing while I do mine. I think we have a mutual professional respect for each other, but nothing more. You don't dip your pen in the company ink."

**Uhura**: (Looks at the reader) "I just want all of you out there to notice that it was _me_ that pegged this one waaaay back in chapter 3. But SHE (jabs finger toward the sky to indicate the Writer) will drag this friggin' thing out to the bitter end. (throws up hands) Just sayin'."

**Chapter 8- A Gift: **_**McCoy and Collins share an office**_

**McCoy**: "Damn it, Jim! You pigeonholed me into a fucking broom closet to begin with and now this?!"

**Kirk:** "Bones, I really didn't have a lot of leeway here. It was this or taking out space from the sickbay and you are always bitching about how you don't have enough room for all the people I send your way."

**McCoy: **"Goddamn it, Jim! It is _my_ fucking office! Can't you see this is just a convenient excuse for _HER _(shakes fist at Writer) to put Collins and I together? SHE wants us crammed in a small space so we have to get along!" (Folds arms across chest and pouts) "I don't want to share with her. She has girl cooties."

**Chapter 9- Fighting Ghosts: **_**Chekov and Sulu fencing**_

**Collins: **"It was very graceful. Now I realize how much skill is involved, I am sure it is harder than it looks."

**Sulu:** "I can teach you. I am showing Chekov how to do it, and he is coming along very quickly."

**Collins: **(laughs) "Sorry. It just struck me how Freudian this whole fencing subplot is. Really- 'thrusting', 'coming' foils as exaggerated phalluses? It is just too much."

**Chekov: ** "Funny for you, but metaphorical sex is all I am going to get. I am about as masculine as a Ken doll and apparently as anatomically correct."

**Sulu:** "Really, Doc. Sometimes a foil is just a foil. Besides, wouldn't that give you a serious case of penis envy?"

**Chapter 11- He Said: **_**Therapy session with Spock**_

**Collins**: "Spock, I am not going to sit here and pretend like I fully understand you because I don't. I am at a disadvantage because I do not know what being a Vulcan looks like, I can only assume Vulcan is the part of you that I can't recognize as human. Even so, if what you told me about our species being related is true, we can't be all that dissimilar. As much as your culture valued logic, I am betting the farm that like humans, they also were too complex to be reduced to biology alone. It isn't my goal to make you more human or to devalue your Vulcan heritage as being somehow abnormal. I have a great deal of respect for you, and as such I accept you for who you are and I care about your well being."

**Spock**: "That was an incredibly long bit of dialogue to make me feel better."

**Collins**: "I hope it worked because I just want you to know that if we were real and you ever walked into my office, I would pull a gun out of my drawer and blow my brains out. The very thought of analyzing you makes me want to slit my wrists. You could make a computer cry."

**Spock**: "Fascinating."

**Chapter 13- The Doctors McCoy: **_**Picture of McCoy and Collins on the way to dinner**_

**McCoy**: "Goddamn it! Don't you kids have anything better to do than stalk us? Isn't it past your bedtimes?" 

**Sulu**: "Man, there are times when it pays not to be an officer in Starfleet, but you two make a great couple!"

**Uhura: **(Points to Sulu). "Mmmhmmm. Dropping another hint…."

**McCoy: **"Take another picture, Ensign. I will shove that camera so far up your ass you will be puking polaroids."

**Chekov: **"But SHE (points to Writer) said I have to. It is part of the whole stupid revenge thing we have. Like I care. Why are you always such an ass anyway?"

**McCoy**: "What happened to your accent?"

**Chekov: **"Fuck you, _Leonard_."

**Chapter 14- Misery Business: **_**Collins threatens to go through McCoy's drawers**_

**Collins: **"I am going to rifle though your things while you are gone."

**McCoy: **"Knock yourself out."

**Collins:** "You won't say that when I find your porn stash."

**McCoy: **"Christ! Could you blame me? I have been trapped in a small room with you for days. I am a man…with needs. But _SHE_ (flips off Writer) won't even give me one little kiss with you. Nothing!"

**Collins:** "Hey, it hasn't been a picnic for me either. I haven't had any action in 250 years."

**Chapter 16- Making Hay: **_**Jim talks to Collins in the Lounge**_

**Collins: **"So who dared you to join?"

**Kirk: **"I met this guy at a bar. The former captain of this very ship."

**Collins: **"What was it about Starfleet that made you join? Why not just stay in Iowa?"

**Kirk: **"There really wasn't anything about Starfleet itself that made me join."

**Collins: **"What did your parents do?"

**Kirk:** (sighs) "You sure do ask a lot of questions. Usually I can get women to sleep with me by now. To hell with it, this is too much work…"

**Chapter 19- The Art of War: **_**Spock spars with Collins**_

**Spock: **"Have you ever read 'The Art of War' by Sun Tzu, Doctor?" (pauses and frowns) "It was written in the 6th century BC and…"

**Collins: **"What's wrong, Spock?"

**Spock: **(looks up at Writer) "Seriously? I only lived on Earth for three years to go to the Academy, and I am supposed to be some kind of pop culture expert? Is there any logical reason I should know this? Really?"

**Collins: ** "Careful, Spock. Don't piss HER off again or you will think the Rubik's cube was a walk in the park."

**Chapter 21- Discoveries: **_**The away team returns**_

**Kirk: **"I didn't promise you nothin'. I said I would try. Guess I didn't try hard enough. But you have to admit, Bones, this is the best I have ever looked coming back from an away mission and you don't even have to check me out. That's something, right?"

**McCoy: **"Yes, Jim. You sure are something."

**Kirk: **"Bonsey! You know you love me!"

**McCoy: **(squints at Kirk) "What would you do if I came down there and bent you over your chair right now in front of everybody?

**Sulu**: (laughing at McCoy) "I double dog dare you!"

**Kirk: **"Umm…" (looks desperately at Writer) "A little help here! Please?!"

**Chapter 22- Love and Duty: **_**Scotty and Collins in his office**_

**Collins: **"…'You named your child Brandy- you obviously have a drinking problem.' The last woman in the group gets up and pulls her son by the arm and says, 'Let's go home, Dick."

**Scotty: **"Ah knew I loved ya the moment I laid eyes on ya, lass! A bonnie that can drink and tell dirty jokes is a right keeper!"

**Collins: **"You know the only reason I told you that joke was because there hasn't been any real action in this story yet."

**Scotty: **"Aye. (salutes Writer with his glass) SHE's a bit of cock tease, ain't SHE? Puts me with Uhura an' not a hint of shaggin' outside of the kiss. Me bollocks are blue, I tell ya."

**Chapter 26- Absolution: **_**The hearing**_

**Kirk: **"Normally this would get drug out with sworn statements and blah blah, but Bones here says you aren't medically capable of giving a statement 'cause of your hearing thing."

**McCoy:** "Look, Collins, we heard everything. The control room has an intercom. All three of us were there, so there is no need to rehash it all over again." (looks at Spock) "Spock says that it appears that you acted within the parameters…damn it! You did what you were supposed to."

**Spock:** (Gets up from table) "That is not what I said!" (throws up hands) "I can't work like this! I will be in my trailer. Call me when you grow up and decide to be the professional you think you are. (looks at Writer) Both of you!"

**Chapter 27- Disturbances: **_**Collins and a drunk McCoy**_

**Collins: **(falls on McCoy) "Well, this is promising! A bit uncomfortable, but promising."

**McCoy:** "My God! Is finally this it? It's about damn time!" (kisses her)

**Collins: **(to Writer) "That's _it_?"

**McCoy: **"Seriously?!" (flips off Writer) "Goddamn you! I hate you! I hope you die you sadistic harpy!"

**Chapter 28- About Last Night…:**_**Spock and the Rubik's cube**_

**Spock: **(twists cube a few times) "You know what? I am sick of this! Here I am, the smartest damn one of all you and SHE gives me a toy that is supposed to be challenging?! (looks at Writer) Here is what I think of your ridiculous prop!" (crushes cube into bits with one hand) "This was not in my contract! I'm calling my agent!"

**Sulu:** "Now he's done it."

**Chekov: **"You don't piss off the Writer. SHE will do very bad things to you like kill your brother and give you a really stupid accent, or make you as sweet and asexual as a Eunuch when I am 17 and my hormones are raging! God, I am suffering."

**Uhura: **"You think he would have learned his lesson when SHE separated us. We were probably the only two that saw any action on this ship- although even I am not sure of that since it was never mentioned."

**Kirk: **(to Spock)"Just go with it, dude. Hell, I would walk around here with a pacifier in my mouth if she would just give me a little more than a passing reference with a green alien. (turns to reader) You probably don't even remember that, do you? Hello! I'm James friggin' Kirk! Womanizer extraordinaire? I get no respect around here." (walks away muttering to himself)

**Chapter 30- A Game of Chess:**_** Collins meets the Queen**_

**Sentia: **"We welcome you, sister. I am Queen Sentia."

**Kirk: **(whispers to McCoy) "Do you think she is the Writer? She seems cruel enough, just look at us branded and strung up like cattle."

**McCoy: **"I don't know, but if it is her she seriously owes me now."

**Sulu:** (to McCoy) "You?! I have more lines in this friggin' gag reel than I do in the entire story and look at me! I'm not much better than a red shirt right now."

**McCoy: **(to Kirk) "Collins is looking at us! Say your damn lines!"

**Kirk:** "Uhh…What does a woman know about war anyway? Your place is the kitchen, not the bridge." (guard slaps him in the head)

**McCoy: **(laughing)"Dumbass."

**Chapter 33- Making the Rounds: **_**Collins goes to Jim's quarters**_

**Kirk: **(answers door shirtless and looks at reader) "I just want you all out there to know this is not what it looks like."

**McCoy: **"Although SHE took great pains to point out I am fully dressed, I will take what I can get here."

**Kirk: **(looks at McCoy) "What does that mean? I'm James friggin' Kirk! You would be so lucky to get a piece of this…"

**McCoy:** "Don't flatter yourself. Right now I would be lucky to get a piece of anything. Where the hell is that little monster thing Scotty had…."

**Kirk: **"SHE didn't write it in. Besides, Bones, there is a fine line between experimentation and desperation. (throws up hands) Just sayin;."


End file.
